Paradiso
by Meg2
Summary: The final installment of the series that began with 'Dead Wrong/Dead Certain'
1. Chapter 1

A/N- This story, which is the final in the series that began with _Dead Wrong/Dead Certain_, takes place over the year and a half that follows _The Darkest Hour_. The reader needs to have read _Dead Wrong/Dead Certain, Snapshots, Scenes from a Marriage 1 & 2_, and _The Darkest Hour_ to understand how the characters have arrived at where they are.

The characters of the Southern Vampire Mysteries are the creation of Charlaine Harris. I hope she doesn't mind my playing with them for a while.

_For Mia, in thanks for her lovely translation skills, and because of her good work and kind heart._

_And for all my many, many kind readers and reviewers and those who found me on LiveJournal- a very heartfelt thanks. It's been a pleasure._

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_Do not go gentle into that good night._

_Rage, rage against the dying of the light._

_~ Dylan Thomas_

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**Paradiso**

**I.**

**Amsterdam, April 2021**

I sat cross-legged on the stone floor while Chloë adjusted the needle. I was too absorbed in my book to pay much attention to the needle-stick. I took out my phone with my other hand, pulled up the Babylon app once again and, balancing the phone on my thigh, tapped quickly with my free hand and hit translate.

"Is that enough, do you think?" asked Chloë softly.

I looked at the syringe. She'd drawn about 5ccs from what I could see.

"You can take more. It actually stores well if you keep it cool. You should keep some on hand, just in case, you know?" I whispered back to her.

I looked at the passage again and its crude translation. I'd gotten used to this method over a long year of research, but still, this really bore being quite careful about what I was doing if I was going to be tattooing symbols onto myself. I didn't like to think about my options for removing it if it was _wrong_, for instance. Although perhaps I could test it _unstuck_ first. I wasn't sure about how to do that. Maybe I could just paint it on myself? I went to a website at Oxford University that I'd found the previous year and tried the same thing but it looked to be pretty close to the same translation. I'd have to ask Mattias, when he awoke, to be sure about it. I was trying to think positively, as if I really knew what I was doing here. I glanced at the other book. Wasn't alchemy usually in more modern times conveyed in Latin? Some of what was in this book really looked like it was Aramaic. But I was definitely no language scholar. No, what I was, was confused. I glanced over at Matthias and realized I was just going to have to wait. Still, I finished writing out what I thought would work. Then I looked in the other book at sticking spells. Chloë was completely unperturbed about the fact that I was sorting through Ani's spellbook as if I was a full-fledged member of the Amsterdam coven.

"Okay, so this is 10ccs. That's enough, then?"

I nodded and she removed the needle. I put my finger on the needlestick point and after applying pressure the mark disappeared.

"Chloë, does this say 'last' ? Sometimes I have trouble with Ani's handwriting," I whispered.

She glanced at where I was pointing and said very softly,

"MmmmHmmmm. You don't want to see mine. I like your sweater. Teal is pretty on you. It goes with your eyes. I'm glad to see you've stopped with all black." She twisted the needle off the syringe and then capped the syringe.

"Thanks," I said softly.

Before she rose Chloë looked me in the eyes and whispered,

"I'm really grateful to you, Sookie. We all are. I just wanted to tell you again. We really love Grooti. The fact that you're helping her means a great deal to us."

I smiled at her.

"I'm very fon…" I caught myself. The vampire b.s. just was not doing it for me. Cool and controlled on the good things and so very over the top on the negative. It was so easy to be angry, violent and oversexed. So far as I could see, anyway. As I'd started to control myself without the aid of razors, knives or anything with which to totally carve myself up, I'd found myself sounding more and more like Pam. Or maybe also, I realized like Cadel. Even with all his humor, Cadel had a hard time with showing that he cared as much as he did. Caring, if you were a vampire, was a dicey business. Because a lot of the time, when you cared, you were very, very let down, according to Pam. Still, I was trying to avoid giving into the whole 'I'm not going to let on that I care' attitude. Caring was, in fact, one of the only reasons I could find to make efforts to be happy these days.

"I _adore_ your great-grandmother. She's been nothing but kind to me. I'll happily give her the blood as long as she needs it, Chloë," I whispered back.

I stretched a bit now that the blood had been drawn. I'd been in the library reading from the moment I rose, after having two bottles of True Blood. I was still hungry but so distracted by the books that I didn't care. I looked up at my reflection in the mirror over the fireplace, which angled down just enough so I could see myself on the floor. I was looking ghostly pale. I really should have another few bottles. Especially since she'd just taken some blood. Suddenly, it occurred to me that I was starved. And that I could hear Chloë's pulse. She smelled… delicious. Which was so very messed up of me to be thinking about my friend or really, anyone. It made me angry. Which of course just made me even hungrier. How I hated my hunger, and the fact that I could be so caught off guard still, after 16 months time, when I was seized by its incredible intensity. I really needed blood. And fairly soon.

"Chloë, can I get another two bottles of the…" I couldn't even finish the sentence. It was _weird_ asking people for blood. Even in a bottle. Even if they were your host or hostess and you were a guest in their home. It was weird asking for blood period. Unless you were like in a café or something. Which I still didn't like to do after my whole bad experience with café accidents in Paris. I never drank in public unless I was with Eric or maybe Pam or Cadel.

"Sure. Do you want the True Blood or that new German one Ani got for you to try?"

"Um, I'll try the German one. Thanks."

I tried not to lick my lips at the thought of it. And Chloë? She didn't even flinch. They were all so sure that I wouldn't ever go after them even if I was young and perpetually hungry. Clearly I was very adept at covering up the intensity of my hunger. Though, when I thought about it, I guess in some ways I'd rather starve than feed from a human, no matter how delicious they smelled. I'd gone ahead and tried it almost a month ago. Well, I almost tried it. I couldn't stomach the idea after just _touching_ the donor. And I'd gone six hours, for good measure, with only two bottles after waking, to make sure that the hunger would be strong enough to motivate me but not so strong that I'd hurt anyone. I'd had someone with me just to be on the safe side though. But the rush of thoughts, emotions, and…. desires, from the big beefy donor were overwhelming from just touching him. I'd pulled away shaking my head and gone straight to the kitchen for a bottle. I just couldn't see myself willingly doing it. Maybe some day. Like a few millennia from now or something. Or… never. Yes, I was thinking _never_ was a really good plan. Say what you will, the nice cold feel of glass on my lips was more than enough sensation for me. Glass had no thoughts and emotions to deal with. Glass didn't find being bitten erotic and therefore require some serious distance or self-control or whatever on the part of the biter. No, I loved glass. It was so… _silent_.

But part of me was aware of this predatory creature, the _other me_, as I called it, who was always lurking in the dark corners of my mind. That _other me_ frightened me. It was fast, angry, always horny and always, always hungry. I was very afraid that eventually it was going to overtake me. That I'd bite, and really hurt, someone I loved. Or tap into some of that anger and do something atrocious.

I still hated being a vampire. I _hated_ it.

Chloë left the room, carrying the syringe of my blood as if it was something rare and precious. I found the idea very amusing that she felt that way about _my_ blood. Of course, since I still got some from Eric, I guessed it really was more valuable than a year old vampire's blood had any right to be. I sighed. At least that was a good thing about being a vampire. I could heal someone who was sick by giving them my blood. I was continually trying to come up with good things about being this way. The list was still way short.

Off in the distance I heard Chloë and her twin Anaïs, chatting as Chloë's voice receded toward the kitchen and Ani's seemed to drift off in the direction of Mathilde's office. I loved the sound of their spoken Dutch. And they sounded happy. I knew that they were pleased I was back. Pleased that I was helping Mathilde.

Sitting on the floor of Mattias' library, with my piles of books, I reflected how easy I'd found it slipping back into the quiet and studious life of the Voortens. They had welcomed me back as if I was almost family. I now often found it hard to express my feelings about how kind they were to me without getting into some really intense emotions. Without the benefit of a blade dulling my senses and desires, I'd spent some days feeling like a live wire in recent months. It was a daily battle, though I didn't like to admit it even to myself, not to resort to a blade. I had not cut myself a single time since December 18th. It was a date now engraved in my memory. Some days I felt like I deserved a merit badge. Or one of those coins that they give people who choose sobriety at AA or something.

Mattias's snores rumbled through the room. He'd fallen asleep in his big, stuffed desk chair. I found the sound oddly comforting. He was really ancient for someone human. Well over a hundred and forty years old, according to the biographical information I'd been able to find on him. I wondered how the magic could keep him so strong and healthy, yet be failing Mathilde, who had a dangerous kind of anemia at only 106. They both looked many decades younger than their actual age. Actually all the Voortens did except for Anaïs and Chloë, who were still young at only 27. The fifty year age difference between Mattias and Beatrix was a clear indication that this coven had tapped into something magically odd and life extending. Their mother had had children for fifty years?

Although I still hadn't had a chance to talk to her about it privately yet, I actually wondered whether magic itself had actually damaged Mathilde. Well, my blood seemed to be helping her, so I'd continue to give it. As long as she needed it, just as I'd told Chloë. She'd helped keep me sane at various moments in the past year. I owed her. It was only blood. Ha! If Eric heard me say that he'd have a fit, I thought to myself, with a smile.

I looked back at the passage and pulled over the other book and looked at the symbols. It seemed so ridiculously simple that I couldn't believe that no one had thought of it and actually done it in modern times. Although, maybe there were other people using it. I guessed it was the kind of thing you wouldn't sing from the rooftops if you got it to work. It probably a dangerous thing to know how to do. Sort of like glamouring vampires, for instance.

With a loud snort, Mattias jerked awake. He shifted in his chair and offered some mutterings.

"I almost fell asleep." He yawned fitfully. "Why are you still on the floor, little vampire? At the least, you should have a cushion. What are you doing?"

I rose with my two books and took them to the desk. I moved too fast and startled him. I grimaced.

"Sorry… I guess I'm a bit excited. I didn't mean to unsettle you. I have a question for you, Mattias. But first, can you help me translate this? I just want to be sure of something."

He looked up at me as if I'd insulted him.

"Can I translate a passage in Latin from one of my _own_ books? Hmpf!" He pulled the book toward him and read through the passage my finger had pointed to on the page. He adjusted his reading glasses and tapped the tip of his nose with an index finger.

"I have a better version." He rose quite gingerly, given his age, from the seat, walked over to some shelves to the left of his desk and then climbed up on his library stair and started digging. I floated up to him and he jerked when he realized I was there next to him, without the ladder. He shook his head but then went back to looking.

"Can you get me that flashlight on the bookshelf opposite?" he asked.

Before he'd even finished the sentence I was back with it. He shook his head yet again.

"So handy you are. Really, you may stay as long as you wish. You said you speak French and Swedish?" he asked with his eyes twinkling with amusement.

I shook my head. "Not fluently, Mattias. But I can read and speak French and Swedish passably, yes. And some German. And I understand a bit of Arabic, too."

"No Greek? No Ancient Greek?"

I shook my head.

"Ah! Then it is a good thing you have _me_."

He yanked a very heavy volume from the bookshelf and then looked at the steps down as if they might be treacherous. I took the book from his hand, held his arm with my other hand and steadied him as he descended. Then I placed the book on his desk for him. He looked down at me with a smile before sitting again. He was almost as tall as Eric. But all of the Voortens were tall. Much taller than me, which was part of how I came by my nickname of the 'little' vampire.

"Quite handy," he murmured again. "Better than Jaap. Such a shame you don't speak Dutch." His eyes twinkled with amusement.

I groaned, since of course, I _tried_ to speak Dutch but had found even back when I worked for the FBI and interviewed people at the Hague that my spoken Dutch came up very short. I had not, evidently, improved with considerably more time spent in the Netherlands. I was teased by the entire Voorten family (except for Mathilde) about my dipthongs and they'd almost given up trying to gain improvement. Chloë was still working with me. Ani, on the other hand, infuriated the family by saying that Dutch was a dead language anyway and that she was sticking to English with me.

Mattias flipped through several pages of the large book he'd taken down and then turning back to the Latin volume for reference, pointed to a page that was in much more indecipherable (to me) Greek in the new book.

"This is the older version. The Greek is probably the oldest description you will find. Certainly the oldest I, myself, have seen. This book was a copy of a copy of a copy of a series of scrolls on the supernatural. It's about as authentic as I think we'll find."

I nodded, soberly, waiting. Mattias had a natural inclination to teach but sometimes I had to really fight feeling impatient and wishing he'd just get to the point already.

"In Babylon, creatures… You realize Babylon is what the Greeks called the Akkadian Babilu? The Gateway of the Gods? No one knows where they came from or when they arrived." he looked at me with narrowed eyes. I just nodded. "In Babylon, creatures unnatural were found descended from the times of Sargon the First." He paused again, translating as he passed his finger along the lines. "This would be almost two thousand years before the Christ, in ancient Assyria," he said nodding to himself. "Creatures unnatural… yes where was I? Ah… Such creatures lived on the blood of the living and shunned the light of day. Created from storm demons, they were called night demons for they could exist only in darkness. They fed on blood and were predatory. And in revenge for one such, named Lilitu, having killed the nephew of Gilgamesh, their kind were punished by the goddess Ninlil, who used her son Ninazu, god of death, to deliver a curse that could poison the blood of the creatures with silver. Hmmm… silver making more sense because it was more available in that area of the world I suppose… In some versions they say that Ninlil is Allatu or Ereshkigal and that her son is Nergal not Ninazu. In others Nergal and Allatu are husband and wife but he is not the father of Ninazu. The early stories of these gods and goddesses are quite confusing. I am always astonished by the fact that they had so many names for the same person. Still, the point is that one of the great gods punished their own creations for their misbehavior, a rather remarkable thing. Interesting creatures, night demons… They would be the original vampires, don't you think?"

I nodded, silently.

He spread his hand across the page. He was puzzled. He looked over at me.

"This is what you came for?"

I met his eyes, smiled slightly and nodded again.

"I had seen the passage in Latin when I was here before, and before that, in a different book in Paris, translated into French. Back when I was researching about ancient Rome and ancient Roman vampires. I was really curious about where vampires came from. Whether they always existed or, if not, when the originated and why. The French book said that Lilitu was Lilith. You know, like from the Bible? I thought I remembered the passage correctly. So it was a curse that made vampires vulnerable to silver, it's not just how they were made?"

"So it seems, yes."

He looked at me soberly then glanced down at the other book.

"And this," he said, pointing to the other book I'd placed on the desk. "Ah, alchemy?" He pulled his glasses further down his nose and regarded me intently with those steel gray eyes that all the Voortens had. "You really would make a very good witch, you know? You have an excellent memory and a natural curiosity about the world. And you seem to see interesting connections between things. That is something that cannot be taught. It cannot," he said with an eyebrow raised, "even be usefully read from another's mind. And what is your question here?" he asked pointing to the book on alchemy.

I regarded Mattias without much expression. I'd never confirmed, even to Mathilde, that I was still telepathic. Much as I trusted them, I was fairly cautious about revealing what I could see or do to anyone.

"From my reading, I know that alchemy also developed in Mesopotamia, right? This would have been about the same time?"

"Yes. The early alchemists were basically sorcerers, witches, shamans. It was a spiritual discipline, as well as a 'scientific' practice, in those times."

I scrolled through the notes I'd scanned into my phone a while back, looking for the image.

"Okay, this is the thing. And you're the only person I've told this to, Mattias. The bad vampire, the one I went to kill? He was a Roman Legionnaire in life. He lived human about two hundred years before Christ. He was turned by an Egyptian vampire, when he was left to die in a battle in Spain, or the Iberian peninsula I guess I should call it for that time. When he was traveling with his sire, who was Egyptian and well over a thousand years old, they met a two thousand year old vampire who he said was probably Sumerian. This Sumerian vampire had a series of odd tattoos on his chest and… silver did not affect him. He even _wore_ silver and wore it proudly. At first, when I was reading back through my notes, I thought maybe it was because he was from like a different bloodline of vampires, right? Not descended from Lilitu or Lilith or whatever we want to call her. Because I remembered reading this passage back when I was doing my research in Paris. But the passage implies they were all cursed. So then I kept thinking about the tattoos. I mean, were they there when he died as a human, or if not, how did they get tattoos to stick on a vampire, right? And _why_ would he get himself tattooed as a vampire? But here's what got me really thinking about whether they came _after_ he was made. The symbols the Roman vampire described to me… the Sumerian had the crescent moon in different orientations along with glyphs that looked like this," I showed him the image I'd scanned into my phone. Ocella had drawn it for me just in case I ever met Naram-Shari, whom he informed me, was a very interesting man. I didn't ask why Ocella had such a clear recollection of the tattoo on Naram-Shari's chest… Ocella seemed to have very fond memories of Naram-Shari many centuries later but he seemed sort of wistful about him. He'd been able to describe his appearance in great detail more than two thousand years after meeting him and told me that he was unlike anyone that he, Ocella, had ever met.

Looking at the drawing, I saw Mattias's eyes widen ever so slightly as he scanned across the glyphs and symbols. It was really odd how being a vampire made you sensitive to such subtle things, I realized. Maybe I would have noticed it because of all my training as an interrogator but since I was so excited, maybe if I was still really human I might have missed it because it was subtle. Who knew? He seemed to be quite cautious and didn't comment, but I thought he looked a bit alarmed by the image I showed him. Anyway, I pressed on, hoping that he wasn't upset by what I was implying.

"When I was in Paris, I remember once seeing a list of alchemical symbols. In the older style of the symbols, silver was the Moon, Luna, and gold was the Sun, Sol, and platinum was actually a combination of the Sun and Moon symbols because they thought long ago that it was sort of an amalgam, right? But the crescent Moons for silver and platinum were reversed from one another, different orientations, like a mirror image. Just like the two ends in this design, see, silver and then platinum? And then this part is like a phrase, right? Like what they used for trying to transmute things. I mean I've seen that in some of the old books where they tried to make precious metal from base metal, even though that never worked. But I know that's the transmutation thing, written in the old style because see, back here?" I paged through the alchemy book to what I'd found earlier, and pointed.

I followed his eyes tracing over the image I pointed to on the page. He was still silent.

"See _here_ they describe people trying to turn lead to gold and stuff like that. So… I wondered if the silver business really _was_ just a curse, if was possible to make a counter-curse using alchemy and tattoo it, with magic, like a sticking spell, so that it would last on even a vampire's skin, and if maybe that was what was on the Sumerian. Because that's silver," I said pointing to the symbol, "and that's platinum, and this whole thing is about transmutation because it looks like this, right here in this book. It's like saying you want to turn silver into platinum, right? And over here, it says they're all what they called noble metals, because they never corroded like iron or anything? So, I mean, in a magical world, or on a magical person, could that really work? Because why else was it on him? It had to be because it made him able to tolerate silver. It's the only thing that makes sense. A human wouldn't have needed one at all so it had to have been tattooed onto him _after _he'd been turned vampire. Of course, there's a piece missing right here though, where Ocella, the bad guy, said he wasn't 'quite sure' he remembered right. But that missing part could be any of these variations. I really think he was just being difficult, because he was not the kind of person ever to give you all the information because then he didn't have anything over you. Personally, I think he left that little bit out on purpose just because… he was Ocella," I said with a frown. "But I guess maybe that part here is the completion of it, from what's in the book? It looks most like this one."

I paused to look at Mattias and he was still studying the drawing that was in the image on my phone.

"So, Mattias, that's my real question for you. I want to know if you believe it's possible to change the effects of the silver, or really the silver itself, in a vampire to… _something else_ by alchemy? Like silver to another noble metal? And you know, actually, I wonder if the whole thing, the business of the sunlight, as well, is all just the result of a curse from our making. Because if night demons were made from storm demons, the storm demons originally saw the light of day, right? That's what it says back here," I flipped through the Latin book and pointed to the passage on the Chaldean _shedu_ or storm demons. "The Sumerian storm demons were guardians, right? Sumer was called the Land of the Lords of Brightness, the land of gods, of the primordial magical beings, wherever the heck they came from. The demons in their culture were the guardians of the gods and so they weren't necessarily evil, they were just very powerful. The Greek word just means divine, right? So it was only later that the Hebrews and Christians that felt they represented evil. And maybe then they were evil or maybe they just pissed off people practicing monotheism because they believed in a bunch of gods and said they were guarding them or something. Anyway, I don't understand the whole passage because the internet translator I used doesn't know some of the words. But the gist of it is that these _shedu_ weren't all just these part lion things which are kind of like shifters. There were a lot of different types of _shedu_ demons and they were _all_ originally out during the day, which maybe means that the night demons were just created from them or… perhaps they just pissed someone off and got themselves cursed so they could _only_ be out at night? Or maybe they were made to guard at night specifically. Really who knows. Anyway, maybe I'm just grasping at straws here because vampires are supposed to be so evil and I really don't _feel _evil. I just don't think that because I got murdered and my vampire best friend gave me her blood that I'm ruined, you know? So my point is that if they _are_ just curses upon us, from the perspective of what I know of witchcraft from all of you and from my witch best friend, there always must be counter-curses, right? Because magic is all about balance. So if you make a curse, there has to be a counter-curse. Basically, what I'm saying is, after months of really thinking about it, it seems to me that that Sumerian guy must have been _wearing_ one. And clearly, it worked."

Mattias looked at me for a long, long time. I always tried to be respectful and stay out of his head, but I could plainly see he was astonished that I had come up with this whole idea. Astonished and deeply… troubled. He seemed to consider things carefully before replying to me.

"You are such a clever little vampire. But what would you intend to _do_ with such information?"

And in that moment I detected a ripple of fear in him that I couldn't help but 'see'. He was very concerned about what my intent was. This was at the back of my mind about the risks of asking him. Removing curses on vampires meant removing their vulnerabilities. And that was obviously not something you want if you're _not_ a vampire. And here he was in a room with a young and supposedly ought to be very hungry vampire, who was asking questions about how to do just that. So he thought I was a risk to him if he wouldn't help me, and I was mindful of the fact that with a stake in hand, he was rather a risk to me during the daylight hours. The way I saw it, we were pretty even in that we had to trust each other's underlying intent for good.

As I was about to answer, Chloë burst into the room.

"Oudoom, Sookie, there are two vampires at the door asking for Sookie! Beatrix is talking to them. We called Anaïs."

With bad memories of being picked up in Paris by Delaunier's goons, instantly I felt my fangs go down and I was quickly out of the library and across the courtyard and into the house. Beatrix and Anaïs stood in just inside the open doorway. Beatrix's eyes cast at an upward angle (notable since she was almost six feet tall), and a silver-tipped spear was in her hands, though she'd never need it because whoever it was couldn't enter uninvited anyway. But I was sure she'd been alarmed to have gotten her spear. As soon as I'd drawn even a little closer, however, I'd sighed and relaxed, though, as I felt someone seeking to soothe me before I'd even arrived at the door.

"Beatrix, Anaïs" I said, not wanting to startle as I approached from behind. I put my arm around Beatrix's shoulders, "It's fine. It's just my… abysmally stubborn husband. This is Eric Northman, and my brother in law, Andor Fetsen" I said with a frown. The night was just getting better and better… I'd worried Mattias and now Eric and Andor had shown up at the worst possible moment to further emphasize that worry. And hadn't we had an agreement that they wouldn't just show up? Well… not exactly. One person had stubbornly refused to agree to that plan.

While I could openly admit that there were probably very few people that could willingly take how stubborn _I_ was, lately I was beginning to think that Eric was far and away stubborner than I could ever be. Of course, he was definitely more used to getting his way than I was, having had more than a few centuries of getting his way on his side. But I'd come to realize over the past decade or so that Eric was also much more skillful than I was at digging his heels in on things that he wanted. While I argued, Eric simply steered things his way. And with much greater skill than I'd ever possess. Especially _with me_. I'd come to realize this after the last veil that really separated my thoughts and his thoughts seemed to have fallen after I'd been turned. Now we had to deliberately tune each other out. He could often hear my thoughts and I could hear his in response to mine. It had been a real awakening. Just as Pam had always assured me, Eric could be quite devious. In particular, he could be devious _with me_, planning what and when he'd get me to cave in on. He was actually quite proud of his ability to skillfully get what he wanted with me. His modus operandi appeared to be 'pick your battles' and he relied on Pam's and his own quick assessments of how to get me to do what he wanted without making me feel like I was pressed into it and on several occasions, even making me think I'd _wanted_ to do it. I could only be glad that Eric was really an honorable person.

Directly related to the issue of getting his way, if I listened to him, which I was really trying to do these days, we were now married for all eternity. I was reminded of this regularly. He said it implied that I'd be sticking around for quite some time. Of course, I already knew that vampire marriages were a serious business. They usually worked on a hundred year plan. The only vampire couple I knew in recent times who'd married out of genuine affection for one another rather than any obvious political advantage were Rasul and Dani. So far as I could see, vampires usually 'married' for political and business reasons. Actually, to that end, I had to say that on a certain level, having a spouse who was a telepathic vampire who could probably glamour a significant fraction of the rest of the vampire population, without their even being a bit the wiser for it, might be rather advantageous. Frankly, on the face of it, it seemed like it was over the top good fortune. Though, as Andor had informed me in private, if your recklessness with your supposed 'gifts' got you killed, potentially along with your purported sire(s), it was definitely _not _advantageous. So I had better, pointed out Andor, cut out my usual ways, take their advice and behave myself. He didn't look very pleased with me while delivering that speech, either. And Eric was even less pleased after finding out he'd delivered it. The three of us had a huge argument with each other. Just for a change of pace.

Anyway, I was pragmatic enough myself to see that it wasn't lost on Eric that having me in his camp permanently was potentially a huge advantage if he could keep me, or at least my principal skills, under wraps and well-controlled. But given the feelings I got whenever I hinted at any worries I had about the potential for wavering, or even total loss, of his love and interest, I'd decided that just as when I'd been human, he was a lot more emotionally driven than driven by pragmatic concerns to keep me at his side. Which was rather in accordance with the fact that I had Andor continually warning me that in fact, my skills could cause them all no small amount of trouble if I wasn't very careful. Andor was worried that something could happen to Eric if he tried to protect me. He called me the best thing and the worst thing that had ever happened to Eric. He insinuated that every other glamouring vampire they'd known had gotten themselves killed, along occasionally with their sire. He'd said, while towering over me and giving me a dark look '_that_ _had_ _better not be us_'. I didn't want to dig around in Eric's mind for details about that whole dead glamouring vampires business. In fact, I tried to stay out of Eric's mind on the entire subject of 'glamouring and telepathic vampires'. I'd caught him more than once thinking about how to use my skills to 'our' advantage. On one occasion, at the beginning of March, I'd actually glamoured the second to the Area 3 sheriff out of sexually harassing women in his Area. He'd been warned multiple times but had been harassing human, Were and even vampire women. Several had said they'd sue in Louisiana courts if he continued. When it came down to Eric killing him or my glamouring him, it was an easy choice. Eric was so delighted when I agreed to do it that it grated on my nerves. The fact that he had a very nice stake on his desk and asked me while the guy was sitting nearby, wrapped up in silver, writhing and moaning, kind of made the choice a bit easier for me.

Anyway, vampires typically married, if at all, for a hundred years. Eric's plans were, he assured me, quite different. The plan was that this was a permanent arrangement. Because I'd already promised it would be, back when I was alive. A point I was never allowed to forget. He said he wasn't going to let a little thing like dying let me off the hook. He'd even suggested if I didn't believe his commitment to the plan that we could do a nice ceremony all over again, to refresh my memory, and that he'd write out some very nice and clear vows for _both_ of us. He'd laughed when I informed him that he was a royal pain in the ass and that I got the point already. If I were going to be foolish enough to marry the man a _third_ time, I said, I'd certainly stick to writing my own vows and get him to swear in his that he'd quit bothering me already. Actually, I had to admit that at least for the time being, he seemed sincere about the forever thing. But currently, the enitre business was like a higher order of stubbornness on his part, because I kept on wanting to do things that clearly drove him nuts, so I couldn't fathom _why_ he was so keen on the idea of being married to me at all at this point, let alone for eternity.

For instance, there was coming to Amsterdam, purportedly on vacation, to do some research on something which I wouldn't tell him about, but which I couldn't get out of my mind, and staying in a place he couldn't go, with people he didn't know. Oh, and being apart during the day, on top of everything else. Which also meant he didn't know how safe I was while I was totally konked out. Which, in his mind, seemed to mean that I wasn't safe enough. As had been mentioned many, _many_ times to me. And not just mentioned by him, but by his principal minions when it came to me, Pam and Cadel. Even Andor had voiced concern. I was surprised that I wasn't entreated by Hunter not to do it. Or Bronwyn. I was frankly surprised that Rosie the cat hadn't delivered a note on the subject. I'd put nothing past the man at this point. I was tired of being questioned about how sure I was that my plan to even visit the Voortens, let alone stay with them, was a safe plan. I felt like I was being interrogated and they were looking for an inconsistency in my response as an indicator that I was not entirely honest and was likely to get myself staked at noon or something. Of course I was sure, I'd assured them. I was safe among witches. This information simply did not compute in Eric and Andor's minds… Safe among witches? Except for Amelia, that is. Even Andor trusted Amelia and really, Andor hardly trusted anyone. Frankly, if I heard another _word_ from either Eric or Andor about how they were 'this old because they were so very careful'…

Yes, Eric seemed to take the business of making sure I was safe very much to heart these days, even though in theory I ought to be safer than ever because I was a vampire and now very strong and very fast. Safer compared to my having been a fragile human, even if I had been much more capable of defending myself than the average human had been. Of course, I did have that long track record of getting beaten up, shot, tortured, kidnapped or, in general, getting myself into bad situations. As a result of all my shenanigans, no matter how brave and wonderful, I'd gotten myself murdered in the end, as Andor regularly liked to remind me. The previous week I'd come within an inch of hauling off and hitting him for saying it in front of Eric. I wouldn't even have been able to blame that one on the _other me_. Yes, as Eric was ever fond of reminding me, I was only a stake away from being gone for good. My being gone for good was definitely not in Eric's plans.

In our final argument about my plan to stay with the Voortens for a few days, which I was sure half of the Amsterdam Grand Hotel had heard, I had been reminded vehemently, while pressed against a bathroom wall, that he was _not _losing me again. I'd started out really mad and arguing but got very distracted because we were naked. It later occurred to me that the naked part was not coincidental. Eric liked to argue with me when he knew I was most likely to be distracted. He called it leveling playing field because I lost my train of thought because of oversexed-vampire-brain. He still seemed quite amused with the newer, stronger, hungrier and hornier me. But he was hopping mad when, afterwards, I _still_ said I was staying with the Voortens. Whatever it was that made me resistant to being compelled by him, and by Pam, I was so very lucky. Because I could tell that he really would have been tempted to compel me, at the very least, into returning before dawn each night. Even though I was absolutely sure I'd be fine with the Voortens. Until I scared Mattias. Although, even at that point, I was pretty sure I'd still be fine. Until Eric and Andor showed up, pressing my luck and Mattias's trust of my motives even further. So now I looked at Eric and my frown deepened. Their arrival was so _not _a part of my plan.

Somehow, having two huge Viking vampires show up in the middle of a conversation about it being okay to make vampires less vulnerable didn't seem to help me present a convincing argument. I was sure even having Cadel and Markus, who were always kidding around, show up would be a problem. Heck, even Pam would be a problem. I was the little vampire. They thought, in a weird way, in spite of my _being_ a vampire, that I was _their_ nice, little vampire. Even as bad as my Dutch was, it was plainly obvious to me from what they said and thought that they didn't think I'd be chewing on any of their family. I was okay. I looked out at 6'6" and 6'4" of blond menace and thought things were now totally _not _okay here.

Even if he'd seen me safe and well fed only the night before in a nearby bookshop, Eric was clearly not thrilled with me at present. At least not from the feeling I was currently getting. Even if by all rights, he ought to _feel _I was safe, since I'd promised him that I wouldn't play any of my little 'let's tune out Eric' tricks at which I was so very adept. But tonight, in spite of all that, he'd flown into a veritable hornet's nest of wards to suss things out. With no warning! I was alarmed and not a little angry at the thought just from the standpoint of their welfare, well beyond the poor timing issue. The Voortens meant serious business with their wards. I was chilled just thinking about it… He seemed to have alighted in a nexus of safety. By some miracle.

And so, as Eric and Andor smiled down at me, glowing softly in the moonlight, I still frowned.

"This is Beatrix van Voorten, and her great-niece, Anaïs," I said completing the introductions. Then I crossed my arms across my chest and shook my head. "Have you lost both your cell phones as well as your judgment? Geez, does it seem like it's _not_ a good idea to go into a enclave of houses belonging to a coven of witches, uninvited, with no warning and start pounding on a door?"

Eric's eyebrow elevated slightly as he looked at me, his eyes sparking a bit. "Well, I've missed you, too. How are _you_ this evening? I'm just fine thank you. So nice of you to let me hear from you? So thoughtful to make sure that I would not be concerned. And, for the record, I rang the bell," he said acidly, pointing to the bell hanging near the door. "I do have _some_ experience with witches, after all, after more than a few centuries of dealings with them. And, I hesitate to point out, perhaps even more experience than you do?"

_And I'm just feeling so delighted right now, Sookie. Abuse me in front of Andor and a bunch of witches, will you? You had better watch it, Sunshine. You're supposed to be more respectful in the open, remember? So I look like I can protect you? Remember that concept? This was the plan. I like the plan. And you had better stick to my plan. I _mean_ it. You'd better watch that sarcasm._

_Geez, you're so grumpy. The _entire square_ is warded, by the way. You clearly flew in, but that will all be fixed by sundown tomorrow after they realize that you just showed up on the doorstep after flying in and it's a loophole in their security. Not too many people fly around here. Your sire's thing was the flying? Rare gift as it turns out, according to my research. A traceable characteristic. Why Pam doesn't fly, I haven't a clue. Anyway… Nothing important. No concerns… No, I'm just worried you're going to get yourself and Andor _fried_, Eric. No biggie, min älskade. Nothing that would upset me in the idea of you and Andor being burnt to a crisp? Oh no… And what exactly were the new fancy phones that also worked in Europe for again? Was it to _call me_ before you wanted to visit? Hmmmmm. I seem to be missing something here. Oh yes. The _call_._

"I'm going outside for a moment to talk to them," I said with a dark look at Eric and Andor.

"If it's your husband, I could go ask Mathilde or maybe Bea can invite…" said Anaïs softly.

"No," I said cutting her off firmly. Leaning close to her I said quietly, "I think only Mathilde can invite them inside and she'd need to modify the wards to do so. Mathilde had issues even just modifying it to let _me _pass. It was very complex and used my blood and even then the first few times it didn't work? Plus, Chloë said Mathilde was still asleep, right? So I'll just go out to them. It's much less complicated and we don't disturb Mathilde."

I drew a small knife from my pocket and scored it across my index and middle fingertips and pressed my fingers against the doorframe. The runespell on the frame illuminated all around the opening and onto the doorstep and then my blood disappeared, leaving not even a trace on the wood. I stepped over the portal. It instantly re-illuminated and sealed, becoming invisible. Andor, after giving me a peculiar look at my cutting my fingers, then seemed fascinated by the opening. He stepped closer, examining it as if trying to see and smell, nostrils flaring, what was actually there. He also examined the spell that illuminated all around on the doorframe as I passed through. I grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the portal with me before he got even an inch closer.

"It would burn you to a cinder if you even tried to enter. And it's a bloodspell on top of it. I have to give it my blood to cross back and forth. If I don't give it, it will most certainly seek it. I really don't think you'd like what it could do to you. So humor me and keep your nose away from it, Andor. Call me crazy but I like your face just as it is."

He pulled back slightly further at my words as I released his arm. He looked down at me with a curious expression and then back at the doorframe. I grabbed his arm again and pulled him with me, a step back toward Eric.

Mathilde meant serious business with her wards. They were very complex as I understood it. I was the only undead person _ever_ have been invited to pass into a van Voorten home. And they had been here in Amsterdam since the 1400's. In fact, I could only enter three of the seven houses that were in this square. This one, Beatrix's and the house that Ani and Chloë resided in with their parents. And even there, only certain rooms.

In spite of our strong mental words, I stepped forward into Eric's open arms, kissing him on the lips.

"Tjena," I said to both of them.

Eric drew me closer and I rested my head against his shoulder for a minute and felt warmed by happy feelings that quickly pushed my annoyance aside. He felt so very good to me. And I felt good to him.

"I sent you a reply text. Didn't you get it?" I asked softly with concern.

"It was _one_ word, Sookie."

I pulled back from him and gave him a look.

"It was not! It was _four_ words. 'Fine. I love you.' _Four_ words. And I'm totally fine as you can see. I just got carried away with my reading. I woke up and started reading. But anyway, how are _you_, min älskade?" I brushed my hand through his hair, which was loose, as I smiled up at him. In spite of seeming a bit annoyed he smiled down at me. His eyes didn't glow but I felt some internal warmth from him. I put my hand on his chest and felt a stirring all around inside me. After almost five months back at home with him, it was very hard to be apart, even for a single night. We were already on a second night… I felt this lurch of desire inside just standing close to him. He looked at me and his eyes sparkled with amusement.

"I'm… fine. I just got concerned, Sookie," he said in a low voice. Then, obviously picking up on what I was feeling and thinking, he grinned at me as he put his hand on mine. _An empty bed is not something either of us likes, it seems. I'm missing you at dawn and dusk min älskade. It's a very ascetic vacation, if you ask me. _

_I miss you back. And more than just in bed. I just got a little absorbed in the research tonight. I told you the first few days was for researching something._

_Well, I'm only missing the sex. It's all I'm interested in where you're concerned. Always has been. Though, possibly the companionship and conversation. If you drop the attitude. _

_I don't have an attitude. You have an attitude. I've missed you and you're giving me attitude._

_And if you missed me, you certainly don't seem thrilled that I came looking for you._

I gave him an exasperated look. In a low voice, I said,

"I'm sorry but you should have called me before you came, Eric. It's plain crazy to just show up here with no warning. Look around you," I said, turning him back around so he could see the open square. It was filled with faces peering out at us and with the faint glow of magic now arcing around the plaza. Defensive magic, specifically magic that could _seriously_ harm vampires. "It really isn't safe to come here uninvited. They didn't know that you guys were with me. You'll have to meet with Mathilde and speak with her. I'll ask her about meeting you. But I don't even know that they'll let you in the house. They don't know you. They'll probably think that you're sly or something because the two of you are so old."

Eric raised an eyebrow. "Well if they think I'm substantially slyer than you are, they haven't been paying very close attention to you, now have they? And we are standing where we are for a reason. I can see just as well as you can, thank you, and I have far more experience than you do and than you will ever have. I don't need to see their house or even meet your treasured friend. I need to see _you_ and that you are safe, Sookie," he said in a low voice. _I don't suppose I could lure you away for an hour or two? Or three?_ His eyes sparkled with mischief.

"I'm sorry if I seemed annoyed," I said more gently. "I was just caught off-guard."

I smiled, and reached up and kissed him again.

_I still bet it's harder on me than it is on you to be apart… besides you'll just spend half the time chattering, Eric._

His eyes widened slightly.

_I do _not_ 'chatter' and you are going to pay for that comment the next time I can get you alone._

_Promises, promises. Look at me tremble. _I tried to keep a very blank expression and added out loud, for Andor's benefit,

"I just don't want to hear the two of you running smack into somebody's wards, okay? Speaking of which, where is Cadel?" I looked up at Eric and then over at Andor.

Andor shook his head with an amused smile. "He met a woman he thought was…" he cleared his throat, "interesting."

I rolled my eyes. Clearly, Cadel was already enjoying himself. He'd clarified several times on the flight to Amsterdam that this was a _vacation_. I'd been so scared on that flight. I'd never been in a coffin, even with all my travel in my year away. I'd taken many short trips to avoid having to travel in a coffin. When Eric locked us inside his, which he'd recently had replaced with a wider model to accommodate the two of us, an hour before we landed, I'd felt like I was having a panic attack. Eric really had to work to get me to calm down. I'd felt like a vampire many times in the past year. But it was the first time I'd felt resoundingly _dead_ since Rosie had hissed at me the night I'd first risen. Cadel had tried to set me at ease about it beforehand by calling it Spring Break via Black Box. He did make me laugh. It was worth it to have to rest in a coffin for a vacation he told me. Vacations were grand. Maybe even if you were married. (Eric had smacked him for that comment.) True to his words, though, it sounded as if he was making the most of the vacation. Meanwhile, Eric was alone several nights already, so I knew Cadel must be having fun with _that _whole business.

Eric stroked his fingers through my hair and then rested his chin on my head.

W_hen do you plan to be back at the hotel?_ _I've had enough of this already. I'd had enough before we even started with it._ With his chin resting on my head, I could feel him turn to look at the doorway, which now held Mathilde's younger sister Beatrix, Mathilde's great-granddaughters Anaïs and Chloë, Mattias, and Mattias's apprentice Jaap. They were all just staring at the three of us. "I know you feel safe here, but I would really prefer your staying with us," he whispered aloud in Swedish, clearly for Andor's benefit.

"Eric," I murmured back, "I can absolutely assure you, it's the safest place in Amsterdam for me, other than with you. I just need another night, two at most. I need to finish my research. It's important to me. To _us_. And then I'll be back as soon as I'm done. I promise."

_What are you really doing here, Sookie? What is this research? Why won't you tell me what you're doing here? This really starting to bother me and it's bothering Andor and Cadel, as well. We are worried it isn't safe._

_I'm fine, Eric. I'll explain soon. Just… trust me, _I replied, taking his hand and pressing it to my heart but not letting him see even a bit of what I was up to.

He looked down at me as he stroked my cheek with his thumb.

_You need more blood, Sookie. You're too pale. How much have you had since you awoke? It's almost midnight._

_Two, I was just going to have two more right before you arrived. Please don't worry. It's awkward to go on silently like this, okay? I love you. One more night._

I leaned against him, in part because it made the silent conversation less obvious and in part because… I really missed him keenly. I felt this stirring internally and suddenly felt an intense craving for a blade. I pushed it out of my mind. I felt his blood in me, soothing me. He always seemed to know now when I felt it.

_I can't help you with that in such a public place. And it's only going to get harder the longer we're apart. This whole business worries me on so many levels, Sookie. You are so trusting of them. How can you trust that they will not harm you or that someone else couldn't? I have asked you before and you always seem so sure. _How_ do you know? Hmm? And why do you not tell me how you are so sure?_

And how could I convince him? Of course it was more than that I was giving them blood. Blood enough even to store. Blood that was in no small part, his blood in me. I wasn't so sure he'd take that info well. And I was sure that he and Andor would just turn that business around and say they could incapacitate me or drain me dry while I was asleep. Even after assuring him again and again that in their thoughts they meant me no malice, he still seemed distrustful though they'd had countless chances to harm me the previous year and had never done so.

_Who else could even enter their home, Eric? I have reasons to trust them. And they to trust me. It will really be fine, min älskade. They will not harm me or allow me to come to harm. I am absolutely certain of it._

He stiffened and shook his head, clearly not satisfied that I still wouldn't do as he wished.

"Well, I don't like it." _Sometimes I just can't believe the shit I'm willing to take from… _He stopped himself before continuing on that train of thought and in fact seemed to rapidly obscure his thoughts from me. I caught just a wisp of menace about what they'd do if the Voortens harmed me. His face revealed not even a hint of it, however. "Just keep better in touch," he said sternly. "And _drink_ _more_. At least another three or four tonight, alright? You're too pale. You're young and hungry, remember that? Forget it a moment too long and you'll see how long they treasure your friendship…" _You had better listen to me, min älskade. _

I stood on tiptoe and kissed him. I sighed as I touched his lips with my own. I really was so tempted to try to meet him somewhere in a few hours. Instead, I whispered playfully,

"I love you, too." I leaned around and looked at Andor. "I hope you get Cadel back," I said with a chuckle. "I'll be mad if you guys lose him."

Andor shook his head with a rueful smile.

"Actually, she's some sort of dancer. A _ballet_ dancer, if you can believe it. Red hair. He was totally taken with her," Andor explained. He leaned down and kissed me on my cheek. "Sookie, Eric's right. You're really keeping him quite on edge. Show some pity. On both of us, since I have to deal with him."

Eric grunted and gave Andor a look. With a quick glance back at the crowded doorway, Eric nodded to them politely.

_Be careful, mitt hjärta._

He kissed me goodbye and then took flight with Andor. From right where they stood, almost like rockets. I looked around me and suddenly realized that the two of them had pretty much landed in the safest spot in the courtyard, which was near exactly near the bell. I should have known better than to think he'd been anything less than perfectly cautious. He even knew quite a bit about the Voortens by the time we'd come to Amsterdam. He'd had them investigated. Even financially. Just to be sure they weren't into kidnapping or something. Basically, I knew he was indulging me by our being here at all. He'd wanted to stay in Paris instead, and told me I could do my research there. When I explained about needing things translated, he said he'd pay for translations. But I'd won out in the end. He'd done quite a bit in the past four months to indulge my whims and basically try to keep me happy, or if not happy, 'enjoying' my waking hours. Even though we never spoke of it, he knew I hated being as I was. I had tried to not let him see that in me, but it was hard to block him out of my thoughts entirely. I briefly touched the talisman that never left my throat. He still thought I would hurt myself. Or maybe worse. Maybe he could see that, all too often, I still thought about both things…

I sighed. I turned back to the doorway and saw Jaap, who'd pushed to the front of the others since he was so much smaller, staring at me with amazement. He looked awed. I cut my fingers again, offered my blood willingly to the ward and then stepped back inside.

Anaïs smiled at me mischievously. "It looks like even vampire husbands get a bit lonely for their wives." Then, surprisingly, she elbowed me. "What a looker he is, Sookie. A wonder you'd be away from him more than a minute. How long have you been married?"

"Eleven years," I said, softly.

She looked at me with her soft smile.

"Well he really loves you. You can see it in the way he looks at you."

I smiled back at her and just nodded. That he did, I thought to myself. It was the only possible explanation at this point.

"Chloë's getting your blood warmed again," she added.

Meanwhile Jaap stood right in my path, just a bit taller than I was, and regarded me with awe.

"They're huge! They're even bigger than the Voortens," said Jaap. Jaap was only seventeen and had been living with the van Voortens since age thirteen, as tradition held. "I've never seen vampires fly. I mean, we don't even really have any vampires other than you." He paused and looked at me with his head at an angle. "Do you fly Sookie?"

He reminded me of Hunter in his enthusiasm. Jaap was still such a kid. I still remembered the first time Eric had flown for Hunter.

"I do, Jaap. I just don't enjoy it much, the way they do. You know they were Vikings. Real Vikings. So they don't get bothered by silly things like bugs and smoke and smog and stuff like that, the way I do. I'm quite happy walking or taking the Metro."

Jaap just looked at me open-mouthed. At first I thought it was the idea I'd rather walk than fly but then I could see he was very hung up on the bit about their being Vikings. I couldn't blame him. I remembered about sixteen years before being incredulous that Eric was as old as he was. Of course, I'd met much older vampires since then. But still, it really _was_ awe-inspiring.

"Vikings like… from a thousand years ago?" he asked. I nodded to him. "Wow. And are they really brothers? They actually don't look that much alike other than being so big and blond."

"Brothers in a vampire sense. They had the same sire. And now they've been friends for over a thousand years. So after that much time, in a very real sense they are like brothers. But my husband is Swedish and Andor is Norwegian. They still speak Old Norse with each other."

Jaap wandered off, looking totally awed.

Chloë returned with two warm bottles of a new German synthetic blood, Neue Blut. She waited to see if it was okay and I nodded to her after tasting it. It was slightly different from True Blood. What a refreshing change! I was so sick of the general sameness of blood. Even with different types and positives and negative. It was just… blood. Once you had a bit when you'd been craving it, I actually thought it was boring. It made me understand why vampires risked going after fairies. Just the chance to taste something different or exotic.

"Thank you, Chloë."

"Graag gedaan," she said, smiling.

Sipping from the first bottle, I walked back to the library with Mattias, who closed the door behind us. He walked around and sat back down at his desk, looking again at the two relevant books. He pushed over a wide tile coaster, onto which I could put both my bottles. Then he glanced back up at me, looking over his reading glasses.

"Now my little vampire, you were saying…"

**

* * *

**

I lay there in the dark cellar, fingering his dark blue sweater, as I waited for the coming dawn. I missed Eric. I kept shifting the pillows and unnecessarily pulling the blanket around myself, wrapping the sweater he'd loaned me to sleep in tighter around myself. I obviously wasn't cold. No, I was lonely and horny. But mostly… lonely. Finally, I drew out my phone and assessed the signal. I was in a cellar after all. I had only two of five signal bars but that should be plenty. I went ahead and typed out a text message to Eric saying I missed him and sent it. The phone rang about thirty seconds later.

"Well, _now_ it's too late. Dawn is in eight minutes according to my watch. I wouldn't trust you could be on this floor that quickly."

I sighed softly.

"I know. Besides I'd wake them leaving the house. It wouldn't be polite. It's a Sunday, after all."

"Promise me you'll stay with me tonight?"

I hesitated.

"I might not be done. I guess… I'll try."

"How about just saying yes for a change? Do you remember how to just say yes? I haven't forgotten how to hear it."

"But I'm not really done yet… I guess they won't mind my going and then coming back again. I just don't want to inconvenience them, since I'm their guest, Eric." I sighed as I glanced around and felt really alone without him by my side. Even just being here, in my now familiar cellar bed, I felt flooded with memories of our year apart, the worst and longest year of my existence. I longed to be next to him. And he was so silent on the other end. I knew he was really getting his patience worn thin with the whole business. "Okay… yes." I whispered.

"Sookie?"

"Mmm?"

"What are you really doing there?"

"I'll have to wait to explain it when I really know myself, Eric. What did you and Andor do after you left?"

"We went to a bar and met someone we know. Someone who came to talk to me, at my request. Someone from Antwerp."

I was silent for a minute.

"You mean Feargus?" I finally asked diffidently.

"Why yes, Feargus. He mentioned a very interesting conversation with a curvaceous blond researcher who was inquiring after our sire last summer. She was evidently quite the charmer."

"She was evidently pumping him for information, Eric."

"You did not tell me you _went_ to Belgium to talk to him, Sookie. I thought you had just located him there with your research. You just neglected to mention actually meeting him? I was caught very off guard by it. You certainly made an impression on him."

"Yeah, well he's probably going to be rather embarrassed when he finds out that I'm your wife. I didn't even know you'd care that I'd met him, since you'd never really mentioned him. I didn't talk to him for very long. It was still the summer and I left at sunset by train and was back here in the house by about 1 am in time for Bea to tuck me in and everything. I got almost my regular amount of reading in that night, if that's any indication."

"Why would he be embarrassed?"

"Use your ample imagination, Eric," I said with a wry tone. "I'm sure you know him far better than I do. The guy is clearly not very used to rejection is all I'll say. And he's not very pleasant about it, either. It was good that I'd planned a quick departure and had my return ticket in hand."

"So Feargus was himself and you were unswayed?"

Feargus was an extremely good-looking guy. Like he could be a male model or an actor or something. He made the rest of the population look ugly. I seriously wondered if he had been part or even _more_ than part fairy. But he was really not… well… I was just not a Feargus fan. Good looks had never been enough to do it for me in the first place. And fairy-born good looks? I didn't exactly have the best opinion of most full or even part-fairies, frankly. Plus, Feargus's absence from Eric's little coterie of fellow Ocella children was not exactly lost on me. He'd never been to visit in Louisiana. He'd never even been mentioned. I'd at least heard of Hjalmar in the past for instance. But I'd found Feargus in my database research and had been sure that Ocella was his sire. I had wondered if he'd personally seen or heard from Ocella after Ocella had left Odense in 1819. After all, if he wasn't friendly with the others, he'd be a natural for Ocella to risk contacting. Feargus had not heard from Ocella, though he thought that it was possible that Ocella was in France around that time. It was odd, I'd thought to myself after meeting him. Ocella had kept Feargus, who was tall, beautiful and had shoulder length reddish-blonde hair, only five short years. Eric had been with him for twenty, Andor ten, Cadel a little less than ten and poor Stefan more than fifty (and even then he got hauled back regularly to be abused and sent off-kilter by Ocella's compelling him to do horrible things). But Feargus only five. Ocella probably hadn't liked him much, I surmised. He'd glossed over talking about him, which was pretty surprising when you thought of what Feargus looked like. I'd have thought someone like Ocella would have considered him a real trophy.

But anyway, the fabulously good-looking Feargus had not even been a moment's thought in my mind. All I wanted was the information I was seeking. Though I couldn't quite put my finger on it, even talking to him for such a short time, there was just something I didn't like about him. I wasn't going to chance prowling through his mind to look for the reason, but that was just my take. Didn't like him, didn't _trust_ him, even though I was sure he hadn't lied about Ocella. But I didn't know if Eric liked him or not so I didn't want to get too negative at the cost of reassuring him that I'd been totally uninterested in him.

"Okay, first, I've never been much interested in sleeping around, Eric. Which you know full well. But even so, just trying to picture Andor, Cadel or Stefan in his place would be more than enough for me. The whole vague relative to you kind of deal? So very _not_ a turn on. Between that and some very nice razor work earlier that night, not even the slightest chance of being swayed, no matter _who_ I was around. If I was going to be around guys, I was always thorough in making sure I was quite clear-headed for the night, if only to make sure that they didn't misinterpret me. Besides, you know I didn't lie to you, right? So why bother asking?"

I heard him swallow on the other end of the line and I could tell the razor comment had been a bit over the top for him, even though it was absolutely the God's honest truth. I'd carved myself up handsomely before going to meet Feargus. But it was nothing out of the ordinary. On some nights I'd literally had an extra bottle of blood because I'd lose so much to cutting if I was going to be around men, other than maybe Jaap or Mattias. No amount of flirting or interest had tempted me after such preparation. I was practically numb by then. I sighed. I knew it upset him so much that I had done it. And I_ still_ found myself wanting to do it. Especially in the shower, which had been my traditional place, since it made cleanup so easy. It was a hard battle not to lapse back into controlling myself that way. It was faster, easier. But it was… wrong, I told myself. Well, actually, mostly what I told myself was that it upset Eric. But, whatever reason I came up with not to do it, the longer I went without doing it, the more likely I could quit doing it.

I felt a lurch of desire still but it was awash with loneliness.

"I really wish I was next to you in bed," I said softly, still fingering the hem of the sweater. Now, I was mad at myself for not having gone with him earlier or at least having called earlier. I might have been able to go stay with him after my talk with Mattias, for instance.

Abruptly I sank into feeling very alone, just thinking back to the time before I'd gone home, when I'd missed him so horribly and thought everything was ruined. And now I was, by my own foolish choice, not near him. Mattias really didn't distrust me as much as I'd worried he did. Not at all. In the end he probably wouldn't have cared if I'd gone out to stay with my husband for a while.

"And whose choice is it that you are not here, Lover?" he said, as if he read my every thought.

"Do you miss my being warm, Eric?" I asked softly.

"I miss your telling me what you're doing."

"Yeah, well, right now I'm missing _knowing_ what I'm doing. Up until a few hours ago I _thought_ I knew what I was doing but now I'm not so sure and I'm not so sure that I'll be… allowed to do what I thought I was doing, so there's no point in talking about it. But I mean it. The other thing? _I_ miss being warm. Because my being warm meant my feeling your being cool, next to me, and I loved that. Don't you miss my being warm? Eric?" As I waited for him to reply, I listened to the background noise. "What are you doing? I hear you tapping on a keyboard. You're using your computer? I'm pouring my heart out, telling you I'm missing you and you're typing about a hundred words a minute? Geez."

"I am just finishing arranging to have the dress delivered to the Voortens house."

My heart, which had already stopped sixteen months before, would have stopped yet again if that was possible.

"What dress?"

"The one you're wearing tomorrow to make up for all of this. All of it. The entire situation, thus far on this trip. Your being there, not here with me, at dawn and sunset. Not telling me that you actually _met_ Feargus. Your refusing to tell me what you're doing. Just the entire business. This is not my idea of a vacation. So your dress? Hmmm. It's by a Dutch designer. What's the name? Marlies Dekkers? She does lingerie and evening wear, evidently. It's a little hard to see the difference between the two, but I do believe the evening wear covers the body slightly more. But don't worry. What there is of it is black."

I ground my teeth a bit before replying.

"Eric, if it's skimpy, I don't have the right stuff with me to wear it. I don't have the right underwear for it, I mean. S_eriously_."

And then I could feel him smiling from halfway across town, all the way over in the Amsterdam Grand Hotel.

"What a pity," he said in a biting tone. "For you, I mean. I'm sure I'll enjoy it even more."

"Eric Northman, I am _not_ going to go out in public wearing any dress without a…"

He cut me off.

"Good thing I know what size you are, isn't it? Although, really in this particular case… hmmm. Perhaps I should have added the wrap, just for _some_ sense of propriety."

"Eric!"

"You _owe_ me, Sunshine. The way you acted earlier tonight and the fact that we're apart right now? It will be time to pay up. I'll very much enjoy showing you off in it."

"Are you actually expecting me to wear this … dress… in public, Eric?"

"You're going to look fantastic in it. Just trust me. Look at that… It is two minutes past and you are still awake. How intriguing. All I have to do is mention Nan's plans for the post-trial media barrage or clothing you might find objectionable and suddenly you are resilient in the face of dawn. Most impressive for one so young."

I groaned. I wondered if he had really just been teasing me and was working on his email. It was six hours earlier in New Orleans after all…

"So, you were just making the whole thing up to tease me, right?"

"Definitely not. It should arrive tomorrow afternoon. To you, care of Anaïs van Voorten. Wait until you see it. Hold on... You know, I just heard Cadel get back into his room. Talk about cutting it a bit close," he erupted into laughter and banged against the wall.

"Hear that?" he said and then apparently moved the phone closer to the wall so that I could hear some sort of rhythm being tapped against the wall. "Ruhe!" boomed Eric, sounding as if he'd hit the wall again for good measure. After some laughter in response, and something that was probably cursing (I couldn't hear it clearly enough to tell) silence fell on the other side.

Eric laughed and then said into the phone,

"Now, where were we? You're still awake? Yes… I will pick you up at 1 am. That should give you plenty of time there after sunset to work and then to dress. Let them know that we are coming. I would prefer to bring a car, but if necessary, flying in is an option. Although the thought of you flying in this dress is rather amusing. And I have to say that I simply can't believe that I had to marry you in order to pick you up and take you out on a date. To think you call these times liberal. In the past I would have simply carried you off and declared you mine."

"You, know, there's a lot I could point to that would suggest you did exactly that, Eric. Especially in the beginning. I seem to recall a marriage deal _without_ my clear understanding. Are you admitting the whole thing wasn't very modern on your part? Although, in the past, I would be wearing a dress that covered me considerably, out of modesty. So what's the deal? Are we living in the past or not?"

"Touché, Lover. As you point out, on the basis of clothing styles, _not_ the past." he said, sounding so thoroughly delighted. "It's really not what I would call modest."

"If I don't like it, I'm not going to wear it. You better be clear on that point."

"You'll wear it. As I said, you owe me. It will look good on you. I would not purchase something that I didn't think would look good on you." He paused for a moment in the conversation then said, "I am actually feeling the dawn. How about you, min älskade?"

My own eyelids were suddenly like lead weights.

"I'm still missing you so mu…" and then, just like that, I was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**II.**

My eyes snapped open at the sound of the cellar door closing and footsteps ascending the stairs. I heard Ani and Chloë's murmurs fading. I sat up and saw a pot with warm water and three bottles of the German blood, and a large white box and a note. Well, actually, two notes. It turned out that one was Eric's note to Anaïs and the other was a note to me from Eric. I sipped from the first bottle and looked at the notes. Anaïs had left Eric's note to her, thanking her for giving me the parcel and had a postscript suggesting that really I needed to have a bit more nourishment early in the evening because I looked too pale. She'd drawn a funny face on the note that looked like a caricature of my handsome longhaired husband with a frown, looking worried. Then I opened Eric's note to me.

_Min Älskade,_

_Gör mig till viljes._

_E._

Now the problem I had with this note was that the literal translation was basically _give in_ _to me_, even if the more literal translation might be 'do me a favor'. He'd told me the latter meaning before, when my Swedish was too poor to catch the meaning. But Stefan told me the more realistic translation. He could have said _unna honom det_, a phrase sort of meaning 'indulge me' and which I had endured hearing, spoken in a taciturn voice, only about a million times from Andor over the past decade. Yeah, I was sure there was no mistaking Eric's meaning _at all_. With dread I opened the box to find a black dress that really wasn't skimpy, although it was rather low cut and had crisscrossing straps across the neckline that looked as if they'd show a fair amount of skin, rather far out onto the bust. I lifted it from the box and shook it out. It looked like it was very… figure defining, although probably mid-calf length. A pair of high heels that went well with the dress were included, along with a strapless bra and panties. A note from the professional shopper said that I could call her up until 9 pm if there were any problems with the fit of the items. The dress was a size 36. I looked at the shoes. Size 39. The bra was a 75E. The panty, a 40. I really wondered, considering the fact that he was always whipping this stuff off me so fast, how Eric even found the _time_ to notice what sizes I wore, let alone knowing the European sizes. Because I was betting he didn't tell the shopper what US sizes I wore and let her figure it out from some chart. Half my underwear was European at this point, after a year away. I was no 80F as I might have been fifteen years before when I'd been eating much better than when I died. He knew my _size_. He could have asked Pam, but really, I didn't think even she knew my European sizes. Amelia had told me once that Bert wouldn't know what size she wore if her life depended on it. Eric, on the other hand, had always been the detail guy.

I got this odd feeling from looking at the dress. It felt like I was going to be… flaunted. Looking at it, I was betting that Feargus was still in Amsterdam and that Eric really didn't like him either. And that we might see him. Then I told myself that was silly.

I sent a text message to Eric telling him I had the dress.

_And? _ he queried back.

_And I guess I'll look okay in it. It's a little racy across the bust._

_Not low cut though._

_Um, what is your idea of low cut? It's all open with those little strips of fabric Eric. It shows a *__lot__* of skin._

_I have told you, practically since I first met you, I like your skin. I enjoy seeing your skin. The skin in the area in question has added attractions._

I just shook my head and didn't even know what to reply. I opened the second bottle of blood and tried to think of an appropriately seductive comment. My brain was just not engaged yet. All it was thinking about was blood. Well, blood and sex, but that last part wasn't happening anytime soon enough, clearly, so _blood_. Except I was having a hard time focusing on blood because I had that. What I didn't have was the other thing. As usual, I wanted more than what I had. With an internal jerk, I tried not to think about sharp things… Since I hadn't replied, he wrote back,

_You will stay at the hotel today, yes? We agreed._

_Yes._

_You sound so enthusiastic._

_The last time I told you I missed you, I found out you were online typing at vampire speed while I poured my heart out._

_So you are now laconic?_

_I forget what that word means._

_Using few words._

_Yep. :)_

_And I suppose I talk too much?_

_Only when you're naked._

_I look forward to seeing you in the dress and taking it off. We will do many things other than talking._

_Did you ever see Seinfeld?_

_What?_

_Seinfeld. The TV show?_

_No._

_What a shame. All I can say is yada yada yada. Look it up._

He didn't reply for several minutes and I opened the third bottle of blood.

_Conversational filler?_

_Hopefully will not be needed…_

He called me and when I accepted the call I could hear him laughing.

"You have the oddest ideas about flirtation. You always did."

"Eric?"

"Hmmm?" he said, softly.

"I am totally not flirting. I'm dead serious, if you'll forgive the pun."

"I'll enjoy forgiving you. I'll forgive every square inch of that lovely skin. When we get back to the hotel."

"Can we go to the hotel _first_?"

He laughed more, but I realized that I could hear something in the background.

"What is that? What was that noise? It sounded like a bottle opening but it wasn't right there near you? Are you flirting with me when Andor is right there?"

"No, of course not. It's _Cadel_. And you just promised me that it was far more than flirtation."

"Cadel is just as bad, Eric. Listen, if you're coming at 1, I need to get to my books, so I'll let you go."

"1 am then. Don't forget to tell the witches that we're coming, alright? Andor was so impressed by them, and by their clever wards. He's very afraid of them now, actually…"

Clearly, Andor had entered the room. I heard a thud and a huff from Eric and then the phone dropped and there were sounds of a struggle. I heard the phone being picked up.

"Hello love, been having a nice visit? Nice of you to keep in touch. So considerate. Listen, they're a bit…" there was another huff, sounds of a struggle and the phone being handled and then,

"We'll be there at 1," said Eric in a slightly strained voice. His words were followed by laughter from all of them and the sound of more struggling and the call ended.

They were really old… _boys_. I shook my head. I was glad for Pam's sake that Stefan was so grown up.

I draped the dress over the back of a nearby chair and slipped into my jeans. I finished the third bottle, changed out of Eric's sweater and then took the pot with the warm water and now floating empty bottles up the stairs. I rinsed off the bottles in the sink and left the pot and empty bottles in the drainer. I padded quietly in my socks across the atrium to Mattias library. I found all my books and notebooks just as I'd left them the previous night, along with a very plump cushion on the floor. A vaseline glass vase with some narcissus had been placed near my stack of books. The scent was lovely.

I perched on my cushion, picked up my book and began to read again about alchemy. I didn't believe in alchemy. But twenty years before I hadn't believed in vampires, either. I sighed as I reflected on the irony.

Now I was doing more than just believing.

**

* * *

**

When Ani had told me that Mathilde was asking for me I should have paid more attention to her manner. I realized in retrospect that she was kind of ill at ease. I padded back across the atrium, through the kitchen and down then up the short flights of stairs to Mathilde's office. I tapped on the door and heard Mathilde's voice call out "Komen".

I waltzed right in and said in a chipper voice,

"Hoe gaat u deze avond?" not even caring if it sounded a bit off. Mathilde never minded such things. She was impressed that I continued to try Dutch no matter what teasing I got for it.

"I am fine, thank you," she said in English, with a smile. "Really."

The latter part must have been because I looked at her as if perplexed. She was dressed up more than usual and had her hair more stylishly pinned up than usual as well. Mathilde had a vaguely Helen Mirren-ish look about her. If the actress had been about 5' 10" and a bit older, she'd be a ringer for Mathilde. But I was puzzled that she was looking as if she was dressed for company or something. Suddenly from behind me, I heard a feminine voice say,

"Well, it's a pleasure to see that you are not wearing _all_ black. It's about time."

I turned around to find myself standing almost eye to eye with Branwen.

She smiled at me, showing hardly any teeth and adjusted the ruffle-edged pink cashmere cardigan that Pan had given me shortly before I'd left for this trip. She examined the long ruffled edge on the sleeves.

"You look quite nice in pink. It gives you a bit more color."

"Branwen…" I was so caught off-guard. "How are you?"

She smiled wider and now I could see some of those lovely razor sharp teeth. She looked fierce as ever. I wondered if Mathilde was seeing her as she was glamoured to be seen, or whether she saw her as I did. I doubted the latter. To Mathilde she was probably the usual beautiful dark-haired Welsh woman that Branwen liked to appear to be. She was, of course, incredibly beautiful in her real form as well, but I suspected that Mathilde was not catching all those little details that were normally glamoured- the glamour that ever since my dip in whatever their fountain of youth was, I no longer really saw, much to Bert's amusement. From Mathilde's expression and manner I was certain she didn't quite see things as they were. Not the iridescent blue-green skin, not the razor sharp teeth, long dark blue hair and slightly wild seafoam green eyes and not at _all_ the fact that she was capable of destroying the entire square in which the Voortens all made their home with a snap of her fingers or stamp of her foot. I had more than a decade of hearing about Branwen from Amelia, now. I was absolutely sure she was one of the last people on the face of the earth I wanted to irritate.

She drew back slightly and her expression dimmed. I got the oddest feeling from her, almost as if she was saddened at the thought that I was rather afraid of her.

"I'm sure you are wondering why I'm here," she said in a cool tone.

I shook my head and said nervously,

"No... not my business. Mathilde, I can come back. Just call for me. I'll be reading."

I turned to leave and Branwen stopped me cold with her icy voice.

"I am here to see you."

I slowly turned back to look at Mathilde and then over at Branwen. To see me? I was puzzled, to say the least.

"You are quite clever to have figured out this business with the silver. But I concur with the witches. What will you do with it? Why do you wish to protect yourself and your friends against silver?"

I felt my jaw go slightly slack. Mattias had told Mathilde had told… Branwen? Why? How did they even know each other? How very odd, I thought.

I looked at her circumspectly. She had to _know_ why.

"Well, gee. I'm not trying to be insolent or anything but it would seem that you, more than most people, would understand why I'm not keen on silver poisoning, either for myself again or for anyone in my family."

"Your 'family'?" she said, sounding a bit arch.

"My family. You know, my husband and his family_, my _family? I'm sure you remember how ill Cadel was, right? Well, then. I'm looking to prevent that ever happening to me. Or to him, again, or to anyone I love who could be vulnerable to it."

She looked rather surprised.

"You have truly forgiven your husband, then?"

I narrowed my eyes to a squint as I looked at her bright and iridescent face.

"Forgiven him? Forgiven him for what?"

"You ran away from him. I have run away from more than one marriage, let me tell you. I, myself, have suffered several epically bad marriages, one of which I was forced to endure for over a decade before my brother rescued me. There is nothing like a bad marriage to ruin a few centuries."

I looked at her dumbfounded.

"Ran away? Um, you mean when I left after I was _turned_?"

"You have left him _before_?" She looked rather surprised. "I was concerned for your welfare. So I had the witch give you the talisman to protect you, so that you could not do lasting harm to yourself. Why do you return to him? As I understand it you were not susceptible to his control? If you wish to leave, you are free to do so. Did he hold your other child hostage? Is that why you returned? That can easily be remedied."

My jaw had already dropped back in the middle part. By the end my mouth was open so wide my Gran would have said I'd catch flies. What was she saying? The middle thing, the _whole_ thing?

"No! Of course he wasn't holding Hunter hostage! And… the talisman was from _you_?" I asked, glancing quickly over at Mathilde then back to Branwen.

"Of course. Do you honestly think that even such a witch as this one could bind and control your dark energy so well? I have had it made to preserve you. You were so troubled in your sleep before, I have heard. And you have been troubled in your death in a similar fashion. The talisman seems to have worked, no?"

Troubled in my _sleep_? Where the heck was she getting her information? She knew about that but not that I'd left long ago and not that if I came back it was because I wanted to?

"Um, I'm kind of wondering exactly how you know some of this information. Because it bears more than a passing resemblance to Swiss cheese. It's got huge gaps."

"Amelia had mentioned to Bertram her concerns about your problems sleeping. Indeed, it seemed that you were plagued with nightmares, were you not? At least that does not happen now, I'd venture to say. But you were… well, you were and are still so troubled. You were harming yourself. This I could not have. You have Bronwyn to think about, after all. When you have a child, you have to think of personal happiness in different terms."

"I'm sorry. I… I beg your pardon. When I have a child? If I have any child, it's Hunter and he's pretty much grown."

"Nonsense," she said, her eyes starting to spark. She smiled with a sense of almost false sweetness. "_Nonsense. _Bronwyn is so obviously your child. Your bit of fairy blood has been a wonderful tonic for her. She is quite clever. She is already doing things that many full-blooded children twice her age wouldn't be able to do. And she has such facility at growing things. How can you say that she is _not_ your child? Why would you? You should be quite proud that she is."

At that point, seeing that she was getting annoyed, I kind of pulled back a bit. Branwen was known, at least according to what Amelia had told me, to literally spark when in fits of temper, as in setting things on fire. Mathilde's office was filled with valuable books and notebooks and… I looked over at Mathilde and gasped. She was sitting just as she had been when I'd glanced at her a few minutes before. Because she was frozen in place.

"Branwen, can you please release her, or unfreeze time or whatever it is that you're doing? I mean, I really just don't feel comfortable with that. I'm her guest and your freezing her or everything else around us just seems… wrong to me."

"But surely you do not wish her to hear your discussion of your private business. Your marriage, your child?"

I tried not to look unpleasant as I stared at her and, ignoring the 'my child' part, said,

"No, no I guess I really don't but I'm not too thrilled with her being frozen, either. And… Look, I don't know what you _thought_ you understood about why I left Louisiana but I don't have a bad marriage and Eric is definitely not bad husband, okay? If I've gone back, it's because I want to go back, because I love him and missed him and missed all of my family there and not because of some sense that I _have_ to go back and definitely not because he was holding Hunter hostage or something. That is just absurd, okay? Eric doesn't even think like that."

She looked puzzled.

"But he allowed the little one to change you against your wishes. Vampires are notoriously possessive and manipulative. I believe they just wanted you to be like them, in the end. They did not even ask for our assistance, which clearly, as you are Bronwyn's mother, I would have been most happy to render to you. My sister Olwen, for instance…"

I cut her off, gritting my teeth, trying very, very hard not to start getting mad myself or make her mad.

"Look, I appreciate your concern for my welfare, but my husband is a good person and really whether he's a vampire or not has little to do with how he is. I didn't leave because there was anything wrong with _him_, or with Pam. I left because there was something wrong with _me_. I was very messed up. So very angry. I was afraid that I could hurt them, hurt Hunter or other people that I loved and cared about. I was being very hurtful and angry. So I left until I could be… better. I'm still not great, but I'm good enough for it to be safe to be around them."

She looked at me as if she had just realized that I was a _very_ odd.

"You were afraid you were hurtful to them because you were _angry_?"

"Yes."

"You were afraid you would hurt them by your anger? When they had done this to you?" she said with a sweep of her hand.

She looked as if she simply could not grasp the idea. Clearly this idea of not wanting hurt people when you were angry was _not_ a concept The Goddess Branwen could relate to very well. I bit my lip with my incisor before I could answer appropriately.

"Yes," I managed to say. "_They_ didn't do anything wrong, Branwen. Someone else killed me and Pam tried to _save_ me. It wasn't their fault."

She gave me a look as if she pitied my naïveté.

"Well," she said, "in any case, when it became obvious that you might harm yourself, I managed to intervene with the witch," gesturing toward Mathilde. "A good witch, she is, actually. Quite reasonable. Not peevish like Bertram's mate. I still have trouble understanding his fascination. Why could he not like you, for instance? At least you can _do_ some things. But it doesn't matter. You have given us a delightful child and for this I wished to be certain that you would be safe yourself. Now you will be able to watch over her for many centuries if she wishes to play in this world. Perhaps in the end, it is just as well that you are as you are. If you still wish to be, that is. We shall see."

I could barely even follow her. I was still stuck on the idea that Amelia, _my friend and business partner_, was 'peevish'. Clearly, we did not know the same Amelia. She didn't seem to consider how any of this was striking me, and as if she was wholly used to people just listening to whatever it was that she had to say. Bert was so low-key in comparison.

She pressed right on,

"So this business with the silver… You say you wish to protect your 'family'. How big a family are we talking about?"

I looked at her carefully as I said,

"Eight of us. Me, Eric, Pam, Cadel, Stefan, Andor, Markus, and just in case, Hunter." I paused. I'd also thought about Jamie and Peggy and of course, Jason, who as I understood it could still now be made very ill by silver as a bitten were. And then there was Bill, who had been poisoned because of me and…

"_NO!" _she said, glaring at me as if getting the idea that I'd add even more if I could.

I jumped and felt my eyes widen.

"Eight would seem to be _more_ than sufficient. Are you even sure all of them need it?"

I blinked even though I no longer had to. Had she really read my thoughts or was she just making a lucky guess?

"But they're my family…" I said softly. "We didn't do anything wrong. _I_ didn't do anything wrong. So why do I have to be punished by any thousands year old curse? Why do any of us? None of us had anything to do with that. You fixed Cadel, so clearly you don't really think he should be cursed right? So… then?"

"_Fine,_" she said, showing teeth.

She snapped her fingers and everything seemed to come alive again, especially, thankfully, Mathilde.

"So, I really see nothing objectionable in your wishing to protect yourself from the silver. Given the history, it is quite understandable. I approve of your… inventiveness."

Mathilde was shaking her head.

"Oh, I seem to have drifted off or something. I'm so sorry…" she said. She looked more than a little puzzled. Then she looked at us suspiciously. She knew. And after Branwen had snapped her fingers I could actually smell magic in the air. Sea breeze with just a hint of smoke.

Branwen turned to Mathilde and said,

"It really should be fine. I'm sure you brother can whip something up for her, correct? Well then, it's been a pleasure."

She turned back to me and said firmly,

"If you're going to do them, be sure to put it in a discreet place. So unfortunate when people try to remove them on the misguided assumption that things are simple. Bear that in mind where you put yours."

She leaned over and air kissed my cheek and was gone in a bolt of silent lightening and a blast of salt sea air. I felt my hair rise at the electrostatic charge in the air. I glanced over at Mathilde who regarded me almost guiltily. Before I could say a word she said,

"She asked me not to say anything about it. I'm sure you understand why I didn't then…"

What could I say? Who _wouldn't _understand?

"So she's how you knew so much about me?"

Mathilde nodded.

"Although Ani and Chloë found out a lot about you online after I learned your real name from her. She says you're the mother of her grandchild."

I frowned.

"Not really. Long story. By the way, I'm going out with my husband tonight about 1 am. It'll be safe, right? No changes after the other day? He wanted to drive a car into the square."

She nodded, studying me.

"She seems to like you very much indeed."

"Well, I wouldn't put too much stock in it, Mathilde. If you ask me I'm about two short steps from getting zapped by her most of the time."

She chortled.

"I'll walk over with you to talk to Mattias. I thought she would say yes about the whole business. Mattias went to check something with an old friend this afternoon. We want to be sure about the spell for the ink before we let you move forward. Measure twice, cut once, as they say. I'd hate to think of what we'd have to do if we got it wrong…"

**

* * *

**

Eric smiled with frank pleasure as he looked at me when I stood in the doorway. For a fleeting moment, I felt like a girl going on a date. I had hardly ever gone on a real date in my entire human life. And I wasn't sure I'd felt like it when I was married and waking up every night with my husband and usually starting my evening the way many really serious dates ended. So it was a funny feeling to have that sense when it was my _husband_ showing up to take me out. He looked so handsome in a suit with a crisp charcoal silk shirt, and his hair pulled back. He could still just make my heart swell. He was so happy looking at me in the dress that I actually handed my borrowed shawl back to Ani.

Although I'd never in a million years have chosen this dress for myself, evidently, I looked good in it according to what Ani and Chloë told me. It was 'figure flattering' to the point of being about a shade shy of sleazy. They told me I looked really sexy, which I guess was kind of Eric's goal. I'd also been assured that it was an actual couture item by Ani, who said she'd seen photographs of it in a magazine. The dress was… well, in my mind I looked almost slutty. It was all about the cleavage. But I didn't have any other dresses with me on this trip and so I appeared to be stuck wearing it. This was what I got for not wearing dresses much since I'd been back home. For not feeling all girly and light and soft and feminine. For feeling more dark and brooding and oversexed and out of control occasionally. It got me Dutch couture that looked like something out of a men's magazine.

I'd glanced at Ani and Chloë wondering if anything _they_ had might fit me. Given the overall differences in our height and build, the answer appeared to be a definite _no_. So I was stuck, in this dress, which revealed no small amount of cleavage. I tried to envision Pam saying 'If you've got it, flaunt it' but it was barely working for me. I'd asked Ani if she had a wrap I could borrow… But then in typical fashion, I caved in and handed it back to her, because Eric looked so damn happy.

Chloë had fussed with my hair and it was up, in a French twist. In my newest force of habit I had one of my stakes stuck down the twist. I'd looked at myself in the long mirror in the entryway and shook my head as I unwrapped the wrap looking at that neckline. Whatever I supposedly owed Eric was completely repaid by wearing this dress in my estimation…

Andor and Cadel gave me amused looks when Eric commented on how nice the dress looked on me. Cadel actually chortled but quickly said that I looked smashing. We made light conversation in the car and I asked Cadel where his dancer was.

"She's performed tonight. I actually saw her dance. I've seldom been to the ballet. I think I hid at the ballet one once in the 1930's. Or was that an opera that just had dancing? Yeah… there was singing, so opera. Why are there dancers in opera? Figaro something. Anyway, dark theaters are always a good place for a vampire to hide. An excellent bit of info for you."

As Cadel and I gabbed on, I glanced over at Eric, who was in back with me, holding my hand. He looked kind of uncomfortable in the tight back seat but there was also something so odd in his manner. I couldn't get a fix on his thoughts at all. After a pause in the conversation with Cadel, I asked him softly,

"Why are you so tense?"

Eric leaned over and kissed me.

"Everything's fine. How is your research?"

"Oh, I think it's fine. I think by tomorrow night I'll be able to tell you guys more."

Abruptly, Eric leaned into me again and sniffed at my hair and neck, then frowned.

"Have you seen Bert or Branwen? You smell… salty… like sea spray… like they do."

"I have, actually. I've seen Branwen earlier tonight. And it's the darndest thing. _She _was the one that told Mathilde all about me last year. It seems like Branwen had been keeping tabs on me. Although I'm not exactly sure how she knew where to look for me."

"So she knows the van Voortens then?"

"Well, I guess she does, and now I know more about the talisman. It's actually Branwen's. _She_ made it and had Mathilde give it to me."

Eric looked a bit surprised.

"Interesting," he said. _Branwen_ _really_ _knew where you were all along?_

_So it seems._

He reached out and touched the talisman, which I was still wearing.

_Why did she go to all this trouble?_

_She told Mathilde that I was the mother of her granddaughter. Can you believe that? I started to argue with Branwen because she said Bronwyn is my child. She got mad and all sparky. I didn't want to take any chances in Mathilde's office or anything so I just changed the subject. But I just can't believe that she considers me Bronwyn's mother. I mean, what is her story? Is Amelia a glorified nanny? It's insulting._

_I have no doubt that in her eyes you _are_ her mother, Sookie. Bronwyn may have Bert's complexion but she looks, moves and even has gestures that look, just like you. It's uncanny. Whether anyone says it to you or Amelia or not, we've all commented on it amongst ourselves. Bronwyn is like a little blue version of you._

_Well, I love her but I am _not_ her mother. Amelia is her mother. Having been raised by someone who was not exactly my biological mother, I have very strong feelings about the whole thing. You know I'm not into conventional family being your only family. Your family can be who you make it. It's the people who take care of you, and that you take care of. It is not about a bunch of DNA and whose egg you're from. It would be one thing if she said she wanted to take care of me because I'd been kind to her son and daughter-in-law and helped them have Bronwyn, but that's _not_ how it was coming across._

_Why was she there? Is she friendly with the Voortens?_

_I'll explain it later. It's all a lot to go into. Where are we going? What's with the tension? Do I have to start digging into people's minds to get answers?_

"We're going to a club," he said out loud. "We're going to chat with some people. And you will do exactly as Andor, Cadel or I tell you to do, no matter what you think of what we tell you at the time, understood? Cadel is keeping an eye on you. No matter what, you listen to Cadel. No arguing."

I turned to him wide-eyed.

"But what's going on? I thought we were on _vacation_?"

"Yes, my ideal vacation includes nights and days apart. Of course. How had I not realized this until now? At best, it is a working vacation and this relates to work. You will do as we tell you, when we tell you. End of discussion. If Cadel tells you that you're leaving, you're leaving."

I tried to delve into his thoughts but he was just pushing me away. Suddenly I realized that actually he was very angry about something. I had been so preoccupied about the business with Branwen that I hadn't really sensed it.

_Are you mad at me, Eric?_

_No, no. I'm not mad at you at all, Lover._

He looked away, but squeezed my hand.

"Just listen if we tell you to do something, Sookie," he said in a gentler tone. "It is not a night for arguing."

When we got to the club, I was surprised to find the missing Hjalmar. I recognized him from his photo in the Compton database. Predictably blond, he was about six feet tall, blue eyed and surprisingly fragile looking compared to Ocella's usual targets. He was more slender even than Cadel and not the usual style that Ocella had favored in men, which had been fairly athletic. He rose with a smile when he saw Eric and Andor enter in front of me. Another man rose and turned. It was Feargus. His eyes widened ever so slightly as they lit on me. He seemed to stiffen slightly as he realized it really was me. I was really puzzled by whatever was going on but kind of glad to see that Hjalmar wasn't permanently dead. Eric, who was still holding my hand, nestled his arm around mine more closely and pulled me to his side. Cadel stood next to me. In spite of the affectionate manner I suddenly realized that Eric had gone fearsomely tense. I glanced up at him wondering what the heck was going on. Andor turned and looked down at my face and had the most peculiar expression on his own as he glanced from me and back to Feargus. He seemed tense as well, but as if he was somehow enjoying the scene. I couldn't help myself.

_Eric, what is going on?_

_Nothing._

He pushed me away mentally and I couldn't get any fix on his thoughts at all. Well, how annoying… Instead I tried to see if Andor would tell me.

_Andor what is going on? Why is Eric acting so strange?_

_Just do as he asks. Everything will be fine, _he thought back at me in mental tone equally solemn with his speaking voice as he greeted Hjalmar and Feargus.

Andor had also quickly turned away, his mind now somehow almost inscrutable, focused elsewhere and thinking largely in visuals, studying the outline of Feargus's clothes carefully. Was he looking for _weapons_ on them? Why would they have _weapons_? Eric, had dropped my hand and put an arm around my waist.

"Feargus, I see that you and Hjalmar connected before I arrived. I invited him to join us. Feargus, Hjalmar, this is my wife, Sookie. Sookie, I know you've met Feargus before, but not Hjalmar. He's been living in Brussels for the past year," he said in an acid tone of voice as he talked to Hjalmar but looked at Feargus.

Hjalmar began to look rather amused about something. The other three seemed so on edge, but Hjalmar was suddenly quite confident of something. I just couldn't quite figure out what was going on without being potentially intrusive, though.

"Pleased to meet you," I said, nodding to Hjalmar. Turning to Feargus, I said, "Feargus, I hope things have been going well?" He had, as I had understood it from my previous meeting, been working as something of a security person for someone in the diamond industry in Antwerp.

Feargus looked at me as if not quite certain what to say or do. He nodded and said,

"A pleasure to see you again," without even a trace of a smile. He looked extremely uneasy. Maybe he just knew how jealous Eric was and wondered if Eric knew he'd rather aggressively propositioned me the previous summer? But he hadn't known that I was attached to anyone and I was sure that he couldn't be blamed for flirting with a woman he didn't know was married.

Rather than sitting in the booth, Eric pulled out a chair for me, and then sat down next to me. After years of training with the FBI and then with Uri, it was clear that he wanted to avoid being boxed into the booth. Uneasily, Feargus sat down in the booth, as did Hjalmar. Cadel sat next to me in another chair and Andor just… stood. Behind Eric, towering over all of us and looking at Feargus in what I could only call a very menacing fashion. I really liked and even sort of loved Andor, but, until you've had a 6' 6" vampire wall of muscle staring unhappily down at you, you haven't really felt menaced by a vampire. I could honestly say that now that I _was_ a vampire, Andor was even scarier to me. Because I had a fuller sense of what he might be reining in.

It quickly became obvious that it was purely a vampire bar as I looked around and saw only vampires and a few fangbangers. Eric and Andor were very clearly the oldest people in the bar. People looked at us covertly. Clearly seeing Vikings was not the usual. A vampire waitress came over and after looking at Andor as if she was puzzled that he refused to sit, took drink orders. Eric turned to me and smiled when I ordered the Neu Blut instead of True Blood.

"Getting all fancy and European, now, are you Louisiana girl?" he said in a low voice to me as he put his arm around my shoulders. He smiled at me quite warmly, I noted, even though I had this sense that he was wound tight as a spring.

"It tastes a little different. You know how bored I get," I murmured.

Eric had been amazed to find when I had returned home that I was still regularly chewing gum. I missed different flavors and scents, especially fruits. While I knew better than to try to eat anything (I'd heard tales of young vampires, missing human food even when they'd sated themselves on blood, and making themselves quite ill by trying to eat human food) I still craved familiar flavors and scents. Chocolate, citrus, peaches and Pam's favorite, pears.

During our brief exchange, I was cognizant of Feargus looking at me and he seemed to be trying to assess something. I noticed his eyes seemed to trace the line of Eric's arm around my shoulder. Then I glanced over at Cadel, who had a tight look on his face as he watched _Eric_. Cadel was uncharacteristically serious. Meanwhile Andor seemed absorbed in watching _Feargus_. Hjalmar just watched everybody watching each other. The bottled blood was delivered promptly by the waitress who handed his bottle to Andor and again offered to get him a seat. He refused tersely. After looking at us again and like any good waitress sensing the tension, she quickly scurried away. Eric took a taste of the Neu Blut when I offered it to him, and nodded, looking briefly at the label. Then running his index finger over the lip of his own bottle of True Blood, he leaned forward slightly and said,

"So I'm waiting, Feargus. It's actually getting a bit late. It will be so much less satisfactory if I have to wait much longer."

I felt as if the hair on the back of my neck was rising. Eric's pleasure at seeing me had masked a good fraction of the depth of the annoyance and anger I'd picked up in the car. Now, the menace in Eric's voice as he spoke to Feargus was unmistakably threatening. The cool demeanor started to fade from Feargus's face. I stiffened. What had Feargus done?

"I believe I may have overstated things, perhaps," Feargus said in a bit of a brogue.

Eric leaned in further and said,

"You lied, you did it in front of Andor, and you're going to apologize for it. To the lady's face. And that will be our beginning."

Lied? What had he lied about? Apologize to _my_ face? I started to sit up and lean forward and Eric's hand dropped to my thigh and squeezed like a vise.

_Just sit. Do _not_ say a word._

_What did he tell you?! He propositioned me but I definitely said no. I was home alone, reading in my bed in Amsterdam by about 1 am. I spent less than two hours with him in a café. And I didn't even drink because I didn't like to drink in public. I took notes the whole time._

_I _know_ he was lying. Just stop rambling and be useful. Does he have a knife? Any weapons at all?_

_But why? _

"I'm waiting Feargus and my patience has already been on the thin side with you in recent times," Eric said, giving him a very dark look.

I tensed as I read Feargus's thoughts.

_He has a dagger. It's in his jacket so he can sit more comfortably._

_Tell Andor. And I may need you to get further information out of his head before the night is over._

_Like what?_

_Tell Andor where the dagger is Sookie! Telepathically. Just _do_ it. _

_What? But… why? What are you guys so upset about? What did he say? What's going on?_

_No more twenty questions! Fucking tell Andor! No arguing!_

"I might owe you an apology, Eric. Perhaps I exaggerated a bit. I had no idea she was yours and she certainly didn't _act_ as if she was married to you."

I gasped out loud, open-mouthed. I had not been inappropriate in the least! What had he told them?!

Eric bolted upright and grabbed Feargus by the throat, raising him off his seat and slamming him into the wall. Feargus struggled, fangs down but, with his free hand, Eric punched him in the chest and I heard the sound of cracking bone. Eric's grip on his throat was so tight that he could barely cry out. Meanwhile, Hjalmar was quickly on his feet, and Andor was at Eric's side. Before I could think, blink or even say a word to Andor about the dagger, Cadel had me out of the bar so fast I'd have felt dizzy if my brain still worked that way.

I tried to send the thought about the dagger to Andor on my way out but I didn't think he was getting it. His mind was so opaque at times. Cadel dropped me to the ground. I tried to go back toward the door and Cadel put his arm around my waist, comfortingly but applying a lot of force holding me exactly in place. He spoke close to my ear, his head bowed down slightly.

"You're not going back in there. I'm to guard you _out here_. That was the plan. We stick to the plan."

I could hear smashing inside and Eric roaring in anger and I felt a jolt of something that was like pain and anger. I gasped, and lurched forward again but Cadel was far too strong for me to get away. With just his arm braced around my waist, I couldn't move forward and I couldn't get out of his grasp.

"Not going back in until asked for, love. Simple as that. Not just orders, but orders I even like. Best to have you away from all that, it is. Reiterating, we stick to the plan."

"What's the rest of the plan? He had a dagger! Feargus had a dagger! We need to go back. Eric told me to tell Andor and I didn't get the chance… I didn't get a chance because I argued with Eric and I was… Omigod! What if something happens to them, Cadel? Eric was hurt! I felt it. He got hurt."

"And how is he now?"

"Mad."

Cadel chuckled at me, shaking his head as if he thought it was charming that I was so worried.

"Sookie, I'm sure they will be fine. Three against one with Eric and Andor as part of the three? I'll take those two alone against twenty!" he said chuckling. "Haven't you ever seen them when they're _really_ mad? I once watched them rip someone to shreds because he stabbed me. Of course, the whole thing was really Andor's fault to begin with, but anyway, really you _don't_ want to be in there."

"I don't care if they're mad. I don't want Eric getting hurt!"

"He's _fine_," he said as a scream issued from the interior of the bar.

"Cadel, what did Feargus say? What did he say about me? To Eric and to Andor?"

"I wasn't there to hear it. But it doesn't matter. It was clear enough that it wasn't true and that's not even all that this is about. Not even half of it. Eric has always had a bit of a problem with Feargus, to begin with. They never did get on. Feargus doesn't get on much with anyone. He's been nothing but trouble, that one. I wouldn't give you a farthing for him. But according to Andor, Eric was fit to be tied when Feargus made the comments about you. But willing to give him the benefit, since he didn't know that you were Eric's wife. Don't worry though. We all believe _you_, not him. Actually, this started out being about something he did to Hjalmar. But he used Eric's name in doing it or such. And he just had to make it worse with his comments about you. Even after it was clear that you're very much with Eric. It was just the bloody limit, that. He was always such an arse. The bloody idiot. If I were inside I'd give him a few just for being disrespectful and lying about you. But whatever he's getting is for more than what he said about you, I assure you."

There were more sounds of a fight inside followed by some really awful screaming. At least it didn't sound like Eric or Andor. But still…

"Cadel, please can't we go back inside? _Please_?"

"No, I really can't let you do that, love. Can't argue with Eric on this one. You wouldn't be happy in there right now. They needed a bit of information, so I'd say it's not quite your style in there. You'll just get all upset. It will spoil your night. It'll be enough just to get you to go back in and sit for a while when they're done."

"What do you mean sit for a while _when they're done? _ When they're _done_?"

"Well, surely you don't think Eric and Andor are going to put on that kind of display and not enjoy resting on their laurels a bit? We're going to sit, drink, listen to some music and just look confident for a while. We've got to _enjoy_ it. That's the way it's done."

I turned to him wide-eyed.

"That's not what I meant. Done with what was what I meant. Omigod… they're going to kill Feargus, aren't they? Was that the plan all along?"

"Well, unless he grows some sense pretty quickly, yeah he's probably done for this time. He's used Eric's name in some kind of scheme or such, bilking people out of a lot of money. Right bloody stupid he is, if he thought Eric was just going to let the whole business slide. I can't believe he came back for more discussion about it. I thought for sure we'd have to go rooting him out in Antwerp. But Andor was right. He's a complete idiot, even if he's a thieving one. I always want to give people the benefit and not think they're bleeding idiots. But he's going to look very nice and fairy-like as he disintegrates. Bloody liar."

I must have looked appalled because he made a face.

"Let me say it again. Eric was already put out with Feargus from before. You've heard about Vikings and the revenge bit, right? Biding their time, choosing carefully. Eric was already predisposed. Then Hjalmar told him about the bad business engineered by Feargus that caused him to quit a perfectly good situation in Geneva and that cost him a fortune to clear out as he did. And Feargus had associated _Eric_ with the whole business on top of it, using Eric's name and Louisiana as a principal investor. And you know how serious Eric is when it comes to business. Hjalmar's asked nicely for Feargus to pay him back or make amends and Feargus just isn't inclined. Think about it Sookie. He used Eric's name along with Louisiana, in a scheme that bilked people out of a _lot_ of money. Thanks to a little hacking, we've got proof positive he did. You can't think Eric's going to let that pass? And then, Feargus made the lying remarks about you, to Eric and Andor last night and tonight in front of all of us, no less. A major miscalculation that. He clearly didn't reckon you and Eric are as close as you are, since he took a bad situation and fairly doubled it by insulting you, in a manner which was insulting Eric on top of it, to both your faces. Clearly he'd forgotten how strongly Eric feels about some things," he said with another chuckle. "Little things like honor, loyalty and fidelity. Like that Eric probably wouldn't be keen about someone lying about his spouse or Feargus telling people he'd invested with Feargus when he hadn't, using Eric's name to _get_ people we know to invest with Feargus, even making it sound like Eric was partly running the whole thing… These are all concepts Feargus has trouble with, evidently."

"So Eric and Feargus never got along? He didn't seem very… on the up and up. Not the way you, Stefan and Andor are at all. When I met him, even though I got a bit of information about Ocella likely being in France in the 1820's, I really didn't like him. I couldn't wait to get away from him, actually. What about Hjalmar? Is _he_ okay?"

"Yeah, Hjalmar's okay. Not a bad chap. Just not equipped to deal with the likes of Feargus on his own, even though he's older. Hjalmar's just not much of a fighter. Never was. He was an artist or something in life. Got all put out once fighting for Ocella when he lost some fingers or such. You'd have thought they wouldn't grow back from the fuss he made according to Andor. Now Feargus is a Pict. You know, from Scotland? Fierce fighters, Picts." I must have had a worried expression on my face again because he continued, "But… no, no… I wouldn't be worried. Hold on…" His phone had audibly vibrated as if receiving a message. He drew out his phone out of his jacket and scrolled through the message with a wry look. "Well, it seems as if there's been a bit a scuffle. Eric asks if you can try to act relaxed. He even says to say 'please' act relaxed to you. I'm trying to remember Eric ever saying please to me about stuff like this. Nah, I'm not recalling ever hearing that. You know, I'm thinking Andor might be onto something with the indulgent bit where you're concerned. Clear favoritism with you _and_ with Pamela. It so obvious." He took his arm away from my waist and then smoothed out a wrinkled area on my dress. "He even got you a dress in the color you favor these days. You really do look smashing in it. You were the best looking thing in the room. Other than Feargus, of course, _before_ Eric and Andor got a hold of him. I've a feeling that he's looking rather ashen now. He shan't be missed. Chin up, chwaer… You'll definitely be the prettiest thing in the place now," he said winking at me with a grin.

We reentered the club and although two people leaned close to look at me, Cadel just pushed them away. He guided me over to Eric, whose charcoal gray shirt was slightly splattered with blood, but who stood looking quite triumphant. I gasped as I saw a bloodstained hole in the shirt. He'd been _stabbed_! I touched his side, worriedly. Looking rather amused, he took my hand and drew me toward a new booth, where he'd draped his black jacket and shifted my purse. Feargus' dagger, stained with blood, was on the table. After kissing me and murmuring that I had to try to relax, he glanced over at where we'd been sitting before with a satisfied smile. They were sweeping up ash and wiping blood off the walls as if it was nothing out of the ordinary. A busboy picked up Feargus's ash laden clothes and put them into a plastic bin. Another was sweeping ash into a tray.

Taking in the whole scene I shivered in a highly unvampire-like fashion and Eric hugged me to his side, smiling a bit. He was much more relaxed now. We sat down and Cadel sat down next to me and started joking with Eric about his poorly groomed appearance. His hair was slightly mussed up, Cadel pointed out, and his shirt wasn't up to his usual standard at all. Pulling the band off his pony tail, I straightened out Eric's hair, combing though it with my fingers and then retied his ponytail, while he said to Cadel,

"He wouldn't back down on any of it. Wouldn't apologize or retract or give back Hjalmar's funds. I think Andor has some account information. And two passwords. At least something to start on. _Definitely_ part fucking fairy, by the way," he said, licking his lips a bit.

"Thought so. Looked it. The men are so much worse than the women, aren't they Sookie? They don't even turn right." Cadel said, elbowing me. I looked at him and he winked at me, merrily. Cadel had always been very clear that whatever Fae blood he himself had, it was definitely _not_ fairy blood.

"I'd hardly be one to say, Cadel. I've got some rather bad memories of at least one female fairy, thank you," I said as I adjusted the band in Eric's hair a bit more.

Eric swatted my hands away from his hair.

"Stop fussing with it," he said with a laugh. He pulled me close to him and playfully ogled the dress's neckline. "I'm going to tell Pam I'm going to do all your shopping from now on. Instead of leaving it to the two of you. If you're determined to wear black, at least it will be interesting for me to look at."

I frowned at him just as Andor showed up with his arm around Hjalmar, who looked ever so slightly shaken. Andor's suit also had blood spatters on it. Eric offered Hjalmar Feargus's dagger, hilt end first. Hjalmar looked at Eric and bowed his head as if in deference as he accepted it.

"I owe you a debt, Eric," he said quietly.

I could feel a ripple of pleasure from Eric.

"And I shall remember it, Hjalmar," he said with a smile. He gestured that Hjalmar and Andor should both sit.

Eric shifted a fresh bottle of Neu Blut in front of me just as the waitress put a tray of ash on the table in front of Eric. People in the bar looked at us somewhat covertly as Eric tossed an empty bottle of the German blood into the tray, as if declaring all of it refuse. Hjalmar still looked pale, even as he drank his True Blood. We'd been outside only a little over five minutes, but I was guessing that they were five very unpleasant minutes for Feargus. No one in the bar appeared to care very much, although there was clearly a fair degree of interest in Eric and Andor. Really in all of us. But no one stared. You could see they were rather too clever to do that.

I swallowed, looking at Feargus's remains and reflected on Cadel's words.

_A major miscalculation._

Every once in a while I was reminded that the man who was so playful and gentle with me was capable of being rather ruthless and extremely violent. He'd given Feargus the chance to apologize and to make it right, I reminded myself. Feargus had set some kind of new record for vampire arrogance in my mind. I simply couldn't imagine someone _continuing_ to pick a fight with Eric and Andor once they realized they were in such a fight. Especially when it was obvious they'd done something wrong! The only person I'd seen to do that so far was Salome and it hadn't worked out too well for her, either. Although the price for me, with the AVL's expectations, continued to be rather burdensome if my forthcoming murder trial and hate crimes grand jury testimony in the early summer were to go as Nan Flanagan wanted them.

Eric was much more relaxed for the rest of the night. Hjalmar seemed pleasant enough. He was curious about why I'd been researching Ocella and I just gave him the standard line about my interest in Ancient Rome and that I'd provided material for Bill's database. Which was, at this point, the truth, since I'd given Bill quite a lot of material that didn't really relate directly to Eric or the others. (Bill had been a bit puzzled that I'd been researching Roman vampires but the material was duly added to the database, without the little connection that Appius Livius Ocella was in fact the now permanently deceased Jesus Santangelo and formerly also Juan Baptista and Chrestus Gallilei and Julian Béni.) If Hjalmar thought the whole business was odd, he certainly wasn't going to irritate Eric by asking about the details at this point. I really couldn't envision anyone in their right mind pissing off Eric and Andor.

Eric and I danced for a while but I wasn't feeling too lively given the earlier events. We stayed for about an hour more, just chatting, and even a bit after Hjalmar had departed.

On the ride back to the hotel, Andor chided me for not telling him clearly that Feargus had the dagger.

"What if it had been silver? He stabbed Eric before I got it away from him, as you saw. You should have spoken up, in your _special_ way. So eager to ask questions but not to deliver the useful information. What is the point of your gift if you are too busy arguing to make use of it?"

Eric started to say something but I cut him off.

"Well, why didn't you guys tell me what was going on in the first place? What was up with that? You get me all dressed up to provide distraction or incentive for the guy to _really_ get you going and you don't even tell me what the deal is? Then you expect me to start acting like some kind of telepathic spy or interrogator or something, so you can do who knows what? And what about the fact that you killed someone in a public bar? I mean what the hell is up with that? How is that okay? If you want to start with the accusations, I think the three of you are nuts."

Eric turned to me and said, with an annoyed expression on his face,

"It was a fair fight!" He demonstrated the slice in his formerly very nice shirt. "He stabbed me. I wasn't definitely going to kill him until he stabbed me. But with that on top of everything else… It was completely fair. And it's a vampire bar, Sookie. None of the humans there will remember a thing at the end of the night. It was a fair fight and he _lost_."

I looked at him, almost in disbelief.

"Um, not that I'm a fan of Feargus or anything Eric, but I think he probably stabbed you because you kind of had him by the throat and you're 6' 4" and about two hundred years older than he is, I mean _was_. I'm kind of thinking that _he_ thought it was self-defense, stabbing you and all. Especially since Andor the Giant here had your back, along with Hjalmar. And I'm assuming he hadn't seen Cadel riled up before? Yeah, I'm thinking between you, Andor and Cadel, if I were Feargus, I'd be stabbing, too. What do you expect he'd think? You had him by the throat, slammed against a wall!"

"He used _my_ name as part of some financial scheme, bilked Hjalmar, and who knows who else out of money, and got Hjalmar in trouble with his local people. Enough trouble so that Hjalmar had to leave Geneva pretty much bankrupt, without a trace, after living there happily for _two centuries_. He lied about and insulted my wife, _to my face_ mind you, and when I gave him the chance to apologize, not only did he _not_ take it, he insulted you, and thereby me, even further and then he stabbed me! I'm not regretting a thing, frankly and really, he should be glad I was in a mood to make short work of him! It had to be done in a public fashion so that everyone would be very clear what I will and will not tolerate. The people who need to know such things _will_ know such things, even back here in Europe. And I've got a debt owed me from Hjalmar, who is very useful. It is good to have a beholden contact in Europe."

Andor piped up, glancing at me in the rearview mirror,

"Whether you agreed with Eric or not, surely you will not let anyone go stabbing him if you can prevent it, right, Sookie?"

"Andor, you can be such an _asshole_ at times," I said angrily. I kicked at the back of his seat.

Cadel finally spoke up,

"Aw, let her alone, Andor. She wanted to go back inside and she was worried about the blade. She's not used to this way of dealing with things. We talked about that earlier before we got her, right? I told you we should have told her from the start what Feargus had been up to. Just… lay off her."

Andor looked at me in the rear view mirror again.

"If it's _Cadel_ they're pulling the knife on, you can take your time thinking about your fine moral distinctions, Sookie."

Cadel slugged Andor in the arm and they proceeded to horse around while Andor drove until Eric told them to cut it out. I was silent as we drove along the Oudezijdsvoorburgwal, past sex shops and beautiful canal houses. Amsterdam was a city of so many contrasts, modern and old, sleazy and refined... Contrasts just like those you could find in some of the vampires I knew. Like an incredibly well-read professional, romantic and very old man who would kill people in bars, for instance.

We were back in the hotel by 3:45 am. Andor and Cadel, who shared the other room in the suite, conveniently started watching a movie that had rather loud sound effects in the outer room. Since it was a vampire floor and most of the vampires would be out or awake, there were no complaints from neighboring rooms about the din. I stared at the large screen TV and shook my head. The movie involved much bloodshed. It appeared to have been selected to assure I would _not_ watch it, and to cover any unseemly bedroom activity. At least that was the idea I got from the amused look Andor gave me as Eric pulled me toward the bedroom. I was almost horny enough not to care.

Eric was barely able to get a peep out of me, no matter what he did. And he tried ardently. About the most he could do was get me to laugh by mimicking my face as I tried to not make a sound.

As frustrated as I was with my entire night, between the Branwen business and the Feargus business, I was so glad to be in bed next to him as I felt dawn drawing closer. I felt so different when we were apart now. It was literally like a part of myself, my blood, my heart, was missing. It felt like my heart was restored to be back next to him.

"You didn't believe him, right?" I asked as I lay there with my head on his shoulder. Really, he shouldn't have, because he'd have felt me lie if I'd told him I'd been faithful and I hadn't been. But Feargus could have sown the seeds of doubt in Eric's mind and I'd turned off his ability to feel me so many times. I really needed to feel sure he knew it was a lie.

"No."

I swallowed hard.

"Did Andor?" I didn't want Eric getting stressed over more arguing with Andor about me after the year that I'd been away.

Eric chuckled in the dark.

"No. You'd have to have heard Feargus's description. It was just not plausible."

"Well, I was… friendly. Maybe even mildly flirtatious. I mean, I _was_ trying to get information out of him. I wasn't inappropriate, though. Really I _wasn't_."

"Sookie, Andor and I have seen you interrogating people before. We know your style and tactics. We didn't believe him. _Either_ of us."

"But what did he say? I want to know what he said, Eric. Cadel made it sound like it was really bad."

"It involved you, in a semi-public location and it was…" Eric just burst out laughing, "wholly unbelievable, either before or especially in the timeframe not long _after_ you were turned. Let's just say it was abundantly obvious to me, and to Andor, that he was lying through his Pictish fangs when he described the encounter. And that was just the endpoint of several things that were already really pissing me off. So don't start asking me if I got rid of him because he was telling lies about my wife when he didn't even realize it was my wife he was talking about initially. Consider his comments the most recent in a series of wrongs. Although, I admit that we moved to the heated discussion phase more rapidly than I anticipated right about the time when he suggested you had come onto _him_."

"Semi-public? What does that mean?" I said, mostly to myself. Then I started envisioning an idea of that might mean. "Oh! _Gross_! Like in a mens' room or something? No way!"

Eric started laughing again.

"As you can see, both Andor and I would really have a hard time believing him. And then there were all the concerns you had about fangs causing 'injury' that, of course, even Andor didn't know about. Let alone the fact that the idea of you being interested in any kind of quickie in recent times seems…" he picked up his watch and looked at the time and chuckled as he shook his head, "_highly_ improbable. _Definitely_ not in the quickie mindset. Not that it was ever your style to begin with. In any case, it was _not_ believable, knowing you, even if you were recently turned and horny as hell, okay? So don't get worried thinking that there are lingering doubts or that Andor privately thinks you did. He was the first to comment that clearly, Feargus was lying about just about everything other than the fact he'd met a pretty blond who asked a lot of questions about Ocella."

I lay there in the bed thinking and finally said what had been on my mind much more than wondering if people thought your morals automatically began to decline the moment you'd been turned.

"Is this what it's really going to be like, Eric? I mean, just centuries of intrigue and bloodshed? Is this how we live?"

I felt this bristle of displeasure. He sighed heavily.

"_No_. And those are strange remarks coming from the woman who spent a full year plotting to kill a man."

Well, there wasn't much I could offer as a retort after that one...

"You may have a point there. I want to point out though that I still think it's one of my worst dates ever. Taking me to a bar to kill someone is really not a date, Eric. I'm feeling kind of let down."

"Tomorrow I'll take you on a better one. We can go see a show in De Wallen. There's this great place Cadel found…"

I rolled on top of him and pinned him down in the bed. He tried very hard to look impressed but wasn't really succeeding well. The twitching mouth gave it away.

"Eric Northman, you're just so _bad_, you know it? I am _not _going to see some sleazy show in De Wallen. I've got no interest in what anybody else is doing or how they're doing it."

"You might get some interesting ideas, though. No? So Pam and Andor are right? You're really not going to loosen up even a bit? Still no chance of the rooftop garden? Endless cajoling for the office? Not even _your _office? The car, _always_ such a fight. Nobody else's rooms at all, ever… No improvements in adventurousness at all, then? Just strength and glamouring and flying? What kind of vampire are you, min älskade?" he asked, with fangs down and eyes glowing. He sighed and then laughed wickedly as he rolled me back over in a whoosh of strength, pinning _me_ to the bed as he straddled my hips. "I'm thinking a frolic on top of a nice Dutch church might be an option."

"It will be Hell freezing over before I will ever have sex on or in a church, Eric. You can just forget that one right now, okay?"

"_Niflheim_, is already cold. It says so in the Eddas. Hell is always cold, in the Norse view. It burns you with its cold. Cold being easier to relate to for Nordic peoples, mind you, than really hot. So hell's already cold in _my_ mind. Does that count?" he asked with one eyebrow raised expectantly.

"_No!_" I said, quite outraged. The feeling of outrage was quick to subside though, as I lay there looking up at him. I'd get him distracted before we could possibly leave the room. I'd… oh my… had I really been married to the man for more than a decade? He was so very… He interrupted my train of thought, or maybe he went with it?

"Well then, I guess I'll just have to have my way with you again, here, on some soft bed and with no pagan sacrilege on your Christian principles." He leaned down grinning and kissed me. "But first you're going to tell me what you're doing with the witches. _Aren't_ you?"

"It's almost dawn. I'm feeling really…" I cleared my throat, "tired," I said, barely keeping a straight face. A vampire being tired was fairly laughable. Maybe after a massive bloodloss, or being exposed to silver or something. I chewed my lip and imagined getting a hand loose and stroking my hand down his chest, onto his abdomen and down to his…

He mimicked me by clearing his throat to distract me.

"We don't get tired, remember? Sated, possibly. But not tired and definitely not tired from sex. So what are you doing with the witches, Lover? Tell me and we'll fall asleep entangled in a very interesting fashion."

"I'll tell you when I know it works and not a moment before then, Eric. Good night."

He looked at me with mischief in his eyes as he pulled my arms up even further above my head. He blew on my armpit and up my arm. I shivered with pleasure as I looked at his lips and fangs.

"Every once in a while, min älskade, I have to remind myself that you're turned. Because sometimes, like now, it's really hard to believe that we're the same, you and I. You should be _much_ more motivated to cooperate. Because I'm still _very_ motivated."

"We're definitely _not_ the same. I'm the horny one, who doesn't waste time with incessant _chattering_, Eric. It's obvious when you get too old that you just lose the urge."

His eyes went wide with mock indignation. He could hardly keep from laughing as he held me pinned me in the bed, and said with glowing eyes,

"Now you've really done it. The _entire_ floor is going to have heard you by the time I'm done with you, envis kvinna."

I smiled as I glanced at the clock on my nightstand. I wondered how exactly how far past dawn I could stay awake. I looked back up at him and said,

"Doubt it. But you're welcome to try."


	3. Chapter 3

**III.**

They looked at me, uncomprehending.

I pressed the blade flat against my forearm yet again. I started to slice into my arm but Eric grabbed my wrist and gave me a warning look. He took the blade from me with his other hand and sniffed it, then looked back at me. It was clearly silver.

I had been pressing a silver knife to my lovely white vampire flesh and I had not gotten burned, not bled and had not writhed in pain.

He touched his fingertip to the tip of the blade and hissed as it burned his skin.

"How?" he asked.

"Magic."

Andor reached out and took the blade, examined Eric's fingertip, burned his own and then pressed the blade back flat against my arm.

"Rather spiffing. Can it work on anyone else?" Cadel asked, as he first focused on the silver blade then looked up at me.

"I'm going to do it for the eight of us."

"Eight?" said Andor, looking puzzled.

"Hunter, too, just in case."

Cadel looked up at me and smiled with dimples so deep they looked like craters.

"Chwaer, have I mentioned how grand it is that you're a witch of sorts? Really grand. I'm completely retracting several prior comments about the idea of you liking witchcraft. I might really have been wrong for once." Then he dropped the smile and said, "How the bloody hell are you doing that?"

I stood up and pulled up my shirt, pulled the waistband on my pants down lower and exposed the tattoo over my hip.

"It's alchemy," I announced.

Cadel looked very puzzled.

"How's that?" he asked pointing at the tattoo, clearly meaning he couldn't figure out how I got it to last on my skin.

"It's a sticking spell. And like I said, it's alchemy that does the silver bit. I'm immune to the silver. It's like platinum on me instead."

Eric leaned closer to examine the tattoo, which was done in white ink, so it was harder to see, over my hip bone. He touched it and I felt the ripples of magic spread from it as if he'd thrown a pebble in a pond. With his other hand he rubbed his face and then shook his head. I could see his thoughts as he wondered how he was going to get it off me, grimly coming to the conclusion that there was no way to do it without hurting me. Visions of Andor holding me down made me jerk away from his touch.

"I never should have let you go there," he said bitterly in response to my pulling away from him. "Was it their idea?"

"No! Don't be ridiculous. It was _my_ idea and it's based on something I learned about from _your _sire."

At that he looked up in surprise, as did Andor and Cadel.

"What did you learn from Ocella that has anything to do with this?" Eric asked.

"When I talked to Ocella in Buenos Aires, he told me about time he spent with his sire. At one point, he mentioned that he and Akhet met a Sumerian vampire who was about two thousand years old. This vampire was immune to silver. He had a series of tattoos on his chest. I do not think that Ocella clearly made the connection that the tattoos were the source of his immunity. He mentioned a description of the vampire for my records, including his recollection of the tattoos. He drew me a picture. He had awesome recall, actually. When he actually drew the symbols, I remembered that I had seen such symbols used for alchemy. I saw them in several books I looked at in Paris, in the National Library. Alchemy originated in Mesopotamia, which is where Sumer, and Assyria and Babylon were, right? Well, when I had been researching in Paris, I also came across an old account in a book of pre-Roman history of the Middle East that mentioned a curse put on vampires to make them more vulnerable. Specifically, vulnerable to silver. In Mattias' library I found the description again in Latin in a different book, but he also had one that was from even earlier, from the ancient Greeks, describing a curse recorded in Babylon that supposedly stemmed from the time of Sumer, when Gilgamesh lived. We are all descended from those early vampires. In fact, vampires used to be called the children of Lilith, the night demon. It's a whole long and complicated story. I won't bore you with the details, but basically, I guess she got her blood from this one demon and then her blood was passed down through time to us, along with the curse. Like I said though, if it was a curse, you can make a counter-curse, and that's exactly what I think the Sumerian vampire did or had done to him. And based on Ocella's description of his tattoos, the counter-curse was achieved by alchemy. So with Mattias' help, I made an alchemical spell for a counter-curse based partly on the one that Ocella described to me and then he helped me tattoo it on myself. And clearly, it works." I pointed to the blade again. "Right?"

The three of them looked at me like I'd lost my very last marble.

"Alchemy? You're really serious, Sookie? _Alchemy?_ Come on!" Eric asked as if he thought I was kidding myself. I could clearly see that he was even more suspicious of the tattoo at this point.

"What is witchcraft or alchemy, Eric? It's just magic. What are vampires? Magical creatures, right? Witches, alchemists and sorcerers are just humans who've learned to wield magic. Any magical creature can learn to wield that magic, too, just like we already do our own magic. So this is just studying and learning how and what to do. Same as the wards I learned to cast working with Amelia and Bert. So yes, it's alchemy and it clearly works."

I took back the knife from Andor and pressed the flat of the blade against my forearm again and then offered to do the same to Andor's arm. Andor pulled his arm away. But he still looked suspicious about the whole business.

"I cannot believe that Ocella told you about his time with his sire. He was so seldom revealing about anything so personal."

"It was history, Andor. He knew I loved history and respected _his_ history. But even so, he didn't tell me all the info about the tattoo, even though I'm pretty certain he hadn't really put two and two together about the tattoo being what made the guy resistant to silver. But you know what he was like much better than I do. I think he never told everything about anything to anyone. He said he 'wasn't sure' about part of it, even though he could draw out about 90% of it. Which is why I came here. I needed Mattias's help to figure out what the rest was or what it needed to be. And then I needed to know how to get something to stick. Even on a vampire."

Eric had leaned back. He was still thinking about how to get it off me.

"Eric, I tattooed it on _myself_, okay? And I'm going to do it on each of you, too."

He leaned his face on his hand and shook his head in a gesture that showed that he wasn't so sure about that idea.

Cadel looked at the silver blade and said,

"I'll do it. I'll let you tattoo it onto me. If it's resistance to silver, you know I'm in."

I smiled at him. I assumed he would be the easiest convert to the plan. Silver poisoning just does that to a person…

"Why? Why is this necessary?" asked Andor.

"Because it's the greatest potential risk of harm to us other than fire or something. I mean think about it, Andor. Think about what happened to Cadel and me a few years back. And now I'm going to have to be testifying against… him. The guy who killed me. Look at the hate mail we're already getting about that? If I can be protected you can be protected. And you _should_ be protected because you're protecting me, right? I mean that puts you at risk and it should put me in your debt, so if I'm resistant to silver now, the very least I can do is give you the same immunity."

"Where do you want to do it?" asked Cadel, looking at my now once again covered hip.

"Well, I've given it a fair amount of thought. And since we all have longer hair, I'm thinking the best place is actually right at the base of your head, like at the hairline. We're all pretty fair, so if I do it in the white ink, like I did mine, then it will probably hardly show, even if you wear your hair tied back."

Cadel hesitated for a moment.

"And you really know what you're doing with it?"

"Yes. It won't be stuck until we're sure it works, alright? The sticking spell is what makes it sort of shine a bit. The way Mattias showed me how to do it uses a needle and the ink, see?" I took the rolled up supplies out of my purse and showed them the vial of ink and the stylus with its needles. "He said it's called tebori. The Japanese use it. I practiced on myself a couple of times before I stuck it. You know, to make sure that it was right and that it looked right."

Eric took up the needle stylus and examined it, he frowned at me.

"Several times?"

Clearly anything sharp and done to me several times was not in the least amusing from his point of view. And what had I done with the mistakes? If I'd hurt myself taking it off, how had he not felt it?

"Well I couldn't very well practice on Mattias, Eric. I mean what would be the point, right? He's not affected by silver and… he's really old and doesn't heal well." Andor turned to look at me with narrow eyes. "For a human, I mean. He's over a hundred years old, you know? Anyway, I let him do one on me and then scrape it down and let it fade while I healed and had some bottled blood. I practiced a few times on my own until I got the hang of it. This one looks pretty reasonable, right?" I'd never been particularly artistic but I did have fairly good handwriting… well for a more modern person, anyway… and so I'd tried to envision making the glyphs as just an extension of writing really neatly, like on an invitation or something. The result didn't look perfect, but it had been hard working on my own hip. I was sure I could do a lot better with what I'd do on them.

About two hours later, after I'd worked the tattoo onto Cadel's skin, and he'd been delighted to find that he was resistant to silver. I made the poultice of herbs, pressed it over the tattoo and recited the incantation that I'd written out carefully. The tattoo seemed to flare and then dimmed to a slight iridescence. Eric stood slightly bent over, looking at it on the back of Cadel's neck. Andor remarked,

"And I'll just keep an eye on him for a night or two before I let you do anything to me, _tack_. And you're not touching Eric with that thing until you've done me and we've seen that I'm fine, too."

"That's really so touching, Andor," said Cadel snidely. "Maybe she could stab you with the needle a few dozen times now, though, just so I can enjoy watching. I don't want to wait a few days to see that."

Andor took a swipe at Cadel and of course, missed. They pulled a few punches at one another as they started horsing around, knocking a lamp over in the process.

"Oy! Jumbo, watch the furnishings," said Cadel, zooming past Andor. "Though, _he's_ paying for the suite," pointing at Eric.

"Haven't I told you not to call me that?" snapped Andor, who reached out but couldn't grab Cadel, who dodged under his arm.

"You should enjoy it! I've called you much, much worse," laughed Cadel, with a huge grin flanked by his dimples. Andor took another swipe at him but simply couldn't get a hand on him.

Eric suddenly reached out and latched onto Cadel abruptly, stopping him in his tracks and smiled. Then he released him.

"Så långsam, så _långsam_," Eric said to Andor, shaking his head with baiting look on his face.

"Jaså, verkligen?" Andor responded, crossing his arms.

"Ja, Som en sköldpadda."

In no time the _three_ of them were horsing around. Sometimes the thought of spending centuries with these three was very daunting. And now Markus was like this too, most of the time.

"I don't know you people," I muttered. I quickly capped the vial of ink, packed up my stuff and went off to the bedroom. I got undressed and put on one of Eric's t-shirts. Then I went into the bathroom and painted my nails with a purple polish so dark it was almost black. It was time-consuming to get the dark color to look even. After they were dry, I realized with annoyance that I'd left the book I was reading back with my things at the Voortens. I glanced at what Eric was reading, Hemingway's _For Whom the Bell Tolls._ I'd never read any Hemingway before. It was an old hardback copy of the book, no dust jacket, and had been published back in the 1940's. On one of the blank inside pages, Eric had written:

_No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. ~ John Donne, Meditation XVII, 1623_

I didn't glance up at Eric, who was standing staring down at me, as I said,

"I left my book there. John Donne was a poet right? But is that from a poem? It's like it doesn't have a sense of meter to it or something."

"No. It's from a sort of essay, from one of a set of essays. That particular one is where Hemingway got the title of the book. The later section of that passage, anyway."

"Ask not for whom the bell tolls, it tolls for thee?"

"'Never send to know,' not 'ask'… yes."

"Well, what's it mean?"

"It's a funeral bell. When one of us dies, we all die a little, I guess. The book is about a civil war in Spain. So every death in a civil war is like killing part of your country, that kind of thing."

"Wow, I am so not reading this," I said closing the book and putting it on his nightstand. "No more death _this_ week, thank you very much."

He stood looking down at me and I didn't have to be a telepath to see he was not very happy.

"I want to see it again."

"Is that a subtle way of saying I should get undressed?" I asked, trying to sound flirtatious as I smiled up at him.

He looked at me soberly, totally unswayed.

"I am really _not_ in the mood, Sookie. Let me see the tattoo again."

"Why are you so upset about it, Eric? How is becoming immune to silver a bad thing?"

"It might be a good thing. I really don't know. I don't completely trust your witches or understand why they would want to help vampires become less vulnerable. While I was sorting out what I thought about it, I started wondering about Branwen being around the other night. Did she have anything to do with this silver business?"

"Well, Mattias told Mathilde and then she told Branwen. They were seeking advice about it, I guess."

"What kind of advice?"

"Like whether I should be entrusted with something that clearly makes vampires less vulnerable advice. But I mean she can clearly tell them why I'd be interested after what happened to Cadel and me a decade ago. What are you really bothered about, Eric?"

"I'm bothered about the idea of you doing witchcraft, and using magic, when we already have enough to contend with the telepathy and glamour," he said matter of factly.

"I already did a fair amount of basic witchcraft before, right? I could do wards and simple stuff. I've been doing it for years. What's the big deal now?"

"The big deal is that this isn't simple stuff at all, now is it? And you're not some fragile human witch. You're a vampire, and you're doing complex magic, and it is one more thing that you, and therefore _I,_ need to be very careful about."

He sat down on the bed and pulled back the shirt to look at my tattoo. He ran his finger over it and I shivered with pleasure that had nothing to do with the ripple of magic that the tattoo seemed to generate.

"You can do that a whole lot more of that and maybe in a few other places. We can have arguments later. Like about five minutes before dawn."

He shook his head.

"You're really proud of yourself, aren't you?"

"Yes. Yes I am, Eric. I put together a whole bunch of disparate pieces of information and the assembled puzzle is going to protect me and the people I love from getting hurt by silver ever again. You bet I'm proud of myself. That doesn't even begin to capture how I'm feeling about it."

He ran his finger over it again.

"Salome was a witch," he reminded me.

"And I'm nothing like her."

"Let's hope you won't be in two thousand years, either. Although I do not think she is still practicing her arts. Still, you need to take this seriously, Sookie. Lines have blurred in recent times. Sure there is more intermarriage and there's even the odd Were that got turned. But people can be distrustful of witches with real supernatural abilities. You already have first hand experience as to why. Remember Hallow. A Were witch was a dangerous thing. And we are much more powerful than any Were."

I sighed heavily.

"Eric, I'm not making a career of being a witch, okay? I have a few things I do for business and I've done this for us. I 'interviewed' Ocella and I got a really useful piece of information in doing so. I thought about it, researched it, mulled it over and then I made good use of it. What is wrong with that?"

"Why did they have to involve Branwen?"

"I don't know. Maybe because she knows me and was concerned enough about me to make the talisman for me. I guess it was kind of like getting a character reference or something. And clearly she's in a good position to tell them that I suffered, and that Cadel suffered, terribly from silver poisoning in the past. Are you at all pleased, Eric? I mean, come on… protection from _silver_."

I looked up at him and saw the conflict about it in his eyes.

"I am guardedly pleased. I'm proud that you're so clever. I'm delighted with the _idea_ of being made even harder to kill. But I wonder what we'll do and say the first time someone realizes that we are immune to silver, Sookie. What kind of subterfuge will have to be employed not to raise all kinds of unwanted attention?"

"I'm sure we'll think of something. And most of the times we've either been attacked with silver it's been at home, by other vampires or by humans, right? In that scenario, you're on your home turf or able to control things somehow. We'll roll with it, Eric. And I have a very hard time believing that there aren't other people out there who have figured this out. I just don't think I'm that clever. If they kept it secret, we can keep it secret."

He frowned.

"Another secret to keep is not welcome. Just remember that you're talking about a culture that has been even less tolerant of differences than humans have been at times. That intolerance kept our kind safe for thousands of years by making us adhere to ways that were considered safer. Remember what Andor told you about the telepaths we knew who could glamour. It's really a serious matter. Things that set you even further apart are… risky. Especially when you're so young."

"It will be fine, min älskade. Really…" I whispered.

He stroked it once more and then looked at me with a smile.

"Sometimes you are just so incredibly clever, Sookie."

"Yeah, right. Like when else? When I married you? That time, I'd probably agree with."

"What about the time you told Sophie-Anne that she should marry Andre and give him Arkansas? She was so delighted with the idea. Or your ability to adapt and thrive in the midst of chaos. Driving cars over people or slapping them awake during the daytime to get them out of collapsing buildings, or finding people inside buildings that are about to be blown up by missiles."

"All that stuff was ages ago, Eric."

He tapped his finger on the tattoo and seemed to enjoy feeling its magic.

"This is no less impressive. It's just… more subtle."

I reached up and kissed him. We fell into each others arms. He playfully called me his klyftig häxa, his clever witch. For a time, as we waited for dawn, it was very hard to determine who had bewitched whom.

By the end of April, all eight of us were protected against silver. Hunter was disappointed when I informed him that it was the _only_ tattoo I wanted to see on him. Pam was the last one to agree to being tattooed. She thought the entire thing was ridiculous and hated the idea of being tattooed. She considered tattoos vulgar. Even white ones. By then I was so practiced that hers looked the most professional of the lot. Which was exactly as it should be, I thought to myself, given how Pam tended to be about things. Even things she couldn't easily see. But I had a great deal of fun teasing her about being tattooed. I quit when she started threatened to make me read something I'd hate.


	4. Chapter 4

**IV.**

**Early May 2021**

I lay in Eric's arms, my eyes closed and the taste of True Blood lingering in my mouth along with his blood. He kissed my head as he rubbed his face in my hair. I still felt like I was just vibrating, our connection lingering, making me feel alive inside.

"Sookie," he murmured softly, with a sigh, "when are you going to talk to Hunter?"

I felt myself tense up, the lingering magic of the moment dissipating almost instantaneously. I shifted uncomfortably and his arms tightened around me. I slid my eyes toward the clock. 7:29 pm.

"It's only going to get harder, Sookie. You need to talk to him about it. It's been almost five months since you returned."

"What is there to say, Eric?"

"You can let him tell you he's sorry. You can let him find some sort of peace with it. I see him looking at you as if he feels guilty and even ashamed at times. He needs to feel that you forgive him for not telling any of us what he saw would happen. You have to see he _needs_ that Sookie. You shouldn't leave things like this with him."

"Leave things like what? I don't know what to say about it Eric. I really just don't. Obviously, I love him. He knows I do. I'm just not prepared to talk about what happened. There's nothing that talking to him will really change, so… why reopen the wound?"

He said, not even as a question,

"You're still so unhappy."

How much could Hunter see of how unhappy I was? Did he blame himself for that or was it just that Eric was unhappy that I was still unhappy?

I was silent. After several minutes of silence, I replied,

"I'm trying Eric. I'm really _trying_ to be happy. But it's changed so many things about me, what I can and can't do… I don't even know how to begin to explain it to you. Maybe my life just wasn't like yours to begin with. I was this whole other brand of human, with a different way of thinking and a different way of living and different priorities. Plus, my life was just already so different from most other people's that conceding this final bit of choice about what or how I am just feels… and I can't even really have a _life_… it's intolerable at times. So I can't talk to Hunter about it. I know he thought I would be fine. Maybe I _will_ eventually be fine. But right now I'm not exactly fine. Not really. Usually, I feel like I'm just pretending I'm fine. Like I'm in 'fake it until you make it' mode. Only every moment that I'm awake."

He looked at me soberly and waited for me to continue. When I didn't, he nudged me.

"Keep going. I've been trying to get you to talk about it for months. I want to hear it."

I looked away.

"I don't want to talk about it. It will just upset you and it will make me upset with myself."

"Well, unfortunately for you, I'm not as easily put off as Hunter is. I want you to talk about it. I want to hear what you think and feel. And if you're still unhappy, I want to understand why you are. I _feel_ that you are Sookie. It's not as if you are fooling me, or that I don't notice or don't care. I _want_ to understand."

He took gentle hold of my arm and pulled, drawing my gaze back toward him.

"Tell me," he said. "Tell me what you feel and think. Don't leave me making my own interpretations of what I feel from you. Tell me for yourself."

I shivered.

"It makes me dislike myself to try to talk about it. It doesn't help."

"How would you know it doesn't help if you won't talk about it? Or are you talking to someone else? Pam? Cadel? Amelia? Who? Or… Ahmed?"

I clenched my jaw. Finally I said,

"No, I'm not talking to anyone else about it. If I can't even talk to you about it, you can hardly expect I'd be able to get anyone else to understand it. And I don't think talking about it will help me. I think it will just upset you. So let's just skip it, okay? I'll try to work something out with Hunter so he doesn't feel so bad. But I'm not going to talk to him about the whole thing and risk making him feel even worse, Eric. Just like I'm not going to dump on you. It isn't your fault. It isn't Pam's fault. And it isn't even Hunter's fault."

I tried to rise and he held me in place.

"We're not done talking. And I'm not skipping a damn thing. Angry? Afraid? Depressed? All those things? Do you think I don't feel what you feel? You are kidding yourself. So talk to me. Put it into words and maybe it will be better for you. You promised me that you wouldn't run away anymore? Not talking is as good as running away in my mind."

"It's not the same at all and no amount of twisting it around can make it the same, Eric. I'm not like you and I don't have to talk about every damn thing. I never have been like that."

"And look how it's left you. It feels the same as running away. I think it basically _is_ the same, emotionally. You might want to actually consider that. How it feels to someone else to know that you're unhappy but you won't talk about it? Hmmm?" his arms had tightened around me. "We agreed you were going to talk because we both know what will happen if it gets bad and you don't talk."

We sat there with his arms locked around me for more than five minutes. Every once in a while he'd sort of tug on my mind, which sure enough was drifting to thoughts of how easily my frustration level could be lowered with the simple swipe of a nice sharp blade. And as if he knew it, he clearly had absolutely no intention of letting me out of the bed unless I talked to him. No matter how strong I was now, he was only, literally, about a thousand times stronger and even if I was almost as fast as Cadel there was simply no way I was getting away from him in our own rooms. And what was the point? Tomorrow I'd wake up in exactly the same bed, same situation, and most of all, with the same man, who could be rather relentless at times.

"Fine. Fine, Eric. Mostly, I still feel so angry. I can't even tell whether I'm angry that I was murdered or angry that I was turned anymore. It's all jumbled together in my mind. I just feel angry and I've always hated feeling angry. Sometimes I think I was _born_ angry because I can't remember I time when I wasn't angry about something happening to me. Only now when I'm angry I get to worry that I'll just lose it and do something awful. So I spend a very large fraction of my time awake trying _not_ to be things. Not to be too hungry, too angry, too horny, too aggressive or too much the slithery vampire thing that I have chained at the back of my mind. I think it's horribly unfair that I had no choice in being turned. I don't care if practically every other vampire I know or have met had no choice, either. It's not relevant. It's just not! I was supposed to be safe and have a choice in the matter. And I didn't and that's rotten, okay? I don't care if it makes me selfish or mean, or ungrateful. I don't care. What I care about is that my mind doesn't get overtaken by some bloodsucking killing machine mentality or that I don't get used to glamouring people into getting whatever the hell I want because that would be totally immoral."

I paused a moment but he looked at me placidly. I felt something vaguely like he felt sympathy, but it was at a distance. He clearly didn't want cloud my emotions with his own. After a moment's silence, he said,

"Any other thoughts?"

"I think it's unfair that people automatically think badly of vampires, or think badly of me just because I'm a vampire. I haven't even done anything wrong. I was murdered and didn't do anything wrong to get myself murdered, either. I was helping to seek justice for people and got killed for it. That makes me angry. Then there's all the shit that I've read about vampires being a cursed race. Or what about the stuff I listened to people saying about vampires over the past decade and a half- all kinds of crap- when I was alive? And you know, I just wonder what kind of world this is? I don't _feel _evil. I don't think you or any vampire who's a friend of mine is evil. And if we're not evil, why are we punished? Is it really still only the sins of our fathers or sires that matter? What's the point of even trying to be good if you're still cursed and paying the price for something that was done wrong, so long ago, by someone _else_ on top of it? Why only night? Why be poisoned by silver? _Why?_ That's why I was so passionate about the thing with the counter-curse for silver. I'm not Lilith, none of us are. Why should we be punished for her misdeeds? And if I can find a way to take away the vulnerability to sunlight, I'll do that, too. So help me I will. Why do we have to live on someone else's terms when we didn't even do anything wrong? Because I'm thinking I have done absolutely nothing in my life that would warrant my being cursed for all eternity in my death. How is that right? It just isn't. Why do we have to just accept it? _Why_? I hate the hunger, I hate the anger, and most of all I hate being some cursed creature who's doomed only to be awake at night. I _hate_ it."

He looked a bit more taken aback by the full summary of my thoughts.

"Sookie, you don't seem to see any of the gifts, any of the benefits of being as we are. All you see is what you lost. And you're very clearly _not_ evil."

"Yeah, well you know, Eric, I've been losing things my whole life. Ever since I was a child and lost my parents and lost my innocence to my uncle. Exactly how much am I supposed to lose and what's next? And what _gifts_ are we talking about here? What benefit is there in getting hungry, no matter how many bottles of blood I've had, when I hug Hunter, or being afraid to play too closely with Bronwyn, or not being able to go see the schools my money builds in Pakistan or the wells my money dug on Indian reservations, or in the Ozarks, or even just never being able to set foot in my garden back at home in Bon Temps to see the crocuses come up on a late winter morning? Those were things that were important to _me_, Eric. Just like your children were important to you. What gifts did you receive from being turned by Ocella that were worth never holding your daughter's hand again or watching your sons grow up and become men? You just tell me that one. You want to ask hard questions, well so will I. What did you gain that was worth giving up your life and the people you loved?"

"I met you. I lead a state. I can choose to surround myself with people I like, love and trust. These are gifts. I have lived eleven hundred years and I have accrued an immense amount of power and strength. I have steadily built a _life_ that I like and enjoy."

"And that makes you and me totally different people then, doesn't it? Because all I ever wanted was to be free to be myself. To be able to be myself and to not be judged as some sort of freak. So what did I get? Now I get to be a freak vampire and I still have to hide what I really am. Plus, I lost all this other stuff on top of it? I am just so thrilled. It's _harder_, not easier, because I have to be so much more careful and responsible and I have to fight my continual urge to bite anyone alive or anyone I love and fight the desire for sex or to express my anger _all the time_, all without using razors or knives. I've never wanted to be powerful_._ I just wanted to be myself and to be safe and with someone I loved."

"That last bit is what you wanted, is it? Well, _look around then_. You have what you desire. If you developed an illness and it limited your life, would it be unfair? Yes. So for the present, if it is all you can manage, imagine that your illness rendered you intolerant of sunlight and pretty much immortal. People may shun you if they are ignorant and afraid you are contagious. But many have not. You are not a freak. You have powerful gifts, which you are learning to manage. Isn't there unhappiness and dissatisfaction in every person's life? I seem to recall that's how real life is, no matter who or what you are, yes? Consider Amelia, for instance. She couldn't have Bert's child herself and it hurt her a great deal that she could not. You gave her a gift. And now she has a beautiful child that Bert's mother evidently misses no opportunity to call _yours_. A child who even looks like you. Has Amelia let any bitterness over it color her every waking moment? I think not. She is grateful for what she has. If she can do it, so can you."

I looked at his eyes, which glinted like cold, hard blue steel.

"Eric, just… please don't tell he how I should feel. Just don't, okay? You want to know why I can't talk about it? What's the point if you're going to tell me how I feel or how I ought to feel? What's the point? How is that helping me?"

I turned away and tried not to think about my former solution to my frustration when it spun so far out of my control: a razor in my hand. Even though he made me mad, I tried to think of it his way, that no one was really ever truly in control of their lives anyway. I closed my eyes and reminded myself of all that I really had. People that loved me. Some very nice circumstances. Kind and gentle handling. A man I loved and who loved me in return. The way I was now wasn't what I'd wanted from life. In fact, I couldn't even bring myself to really consider it _life_ in my mind anymore. But I tried to remind myself that I was still so very lucky. Luckier than the majority of people who were ever turned. I had remade my life several times over at this point. From Louisiana to Virginia and back again and then in France. Why was it so much harder this time, I wondered? Didn't he see or _feel _that I was trying so hard? My eyes stung with tears. I couldn't even look at him.

Eric's hold on me had loosened. I sat up in the bed and said quietly,

"I'm going to shower."

I guessed that my voice sounded as if I was going to cry. He stroked my back. As I started to get up, he caught my arm.

"Sookie, I still mourn losing my children. Especially after Hunter started staying with us and then living with us. You know that. I still think about them, in fact more than I have in centuries because of the life I live with you and Hunter. I wonder what happened to them. But I can't let the loss define me. Whatever you lost doesn't define you, either. You say you want to be yourself. Who are we really if what we are is so easily altered? I did not let Ocella alter me, in the end, no matter how he tried. Don't let Kindsley alter you."

I flinched ever so slightly at hearing the name. His trial was just weeks away. I was to testify at a special night hearing about my recollections of my being murdered by him. Along with Pam, who witnessed it. I was dreading testifying. And after that there was probably my federal grand jury testimony in store, if the AVL got their way. And then all the media stuff that I didn't want to do, the stuff which I had always hated. Plus, there was all the hate mail, all the threats and all the danger that seemed to swirl around as a prelude to the walking through my trial by fire as I'd referred to Kindsley's trial ever since I'd received the summons.

I didn't reply.

"You're still yourself in every real and meaningful way. The business with Hunter and Bronwyn… you'll get past it. And I really don't think you'd ever lose control and hurt them. You'd hurt yourself before you'd hurt them. You spent a _year _hurting yourself in preference to hurting me in any way, and clearly I'm much better able to protect myself than either of them."

He sat up next to me and draped his arm across my chest and around my waist, pulling me closer. He kissed my temple and, bowing his head, pressed his nose into the hollow of my cheek. We sat like that for several minutes as I felt slowly suffused with a feeling of warmth from him.

"I just want to feel better already. That's all," I finally whispered.

"You will. Give it time. You just need to give it more time," he whispered back to me.

After several more minutes of holding me he said,

"Come, take a shower with me," with a mischievous smile, offering me his hand.

I glanced at the clock. It was almost 8 pm.

"I don't want to make you late."

"They can wait. Do you really think I would rather have a meeting with a bunch of Area 3 Weres instead of enjoying a shower with you? Besides, the meeting isn't until 8:45," he said, with a smile. "You really should give Stefan better credit for attention to the details of my _actual_ working schedule these days."

I knew the real reason for his worry was what I used to do in the shower, but before I could even reply, we were _in_ the shower. As distractions go, it was lovely. But it couldn't completely distract me from my thoughts, which were still so very dark at times. What it did do, though, was keep me safe and feeling soothed. As upset as I'd been with his telling me to do better, I marveled at Eric's ability to know when I was on the verge.

I dressed to go downstairs. Cadel wasn't answering his cell phone so I guessed that I'd have to wait until he made himself available if I was going to let him accompany me to my office. I wasn't supposed to go out without him, since we were getting so many threats because of the upcoming trial. All of us went out in pairs these days.

I sent Amelia a text message apologizing for running really late and offered to go to her house instead. We were just doing scheduling and going over a few problems with a recent installation of upgraded equipment and wards. Pam was busy in her office arguing with someone on her staff. She sounded so irritable I didn't want to even try to enter her office. There was still no sign of Cadel. Eric was on a video conference call with Maxwell in his office, so I finally went and sat in the great room, on a couch off in a quiet corner where Hunter or I sometimes sat checking visitors out. I surveyed all the people waiting to meet with Eric, but saw nothing of worry. No vampires tonight. Two Weres, probably the ones from Area 3, were engaged in a conversation off in the far corner of the room. A couple of the human contractors for the estate renovations were absorbed in going over some new drawings. There were some changes to the second floor rooms as I understood it.

Markus plopped down on the couch next to me and propped his feet up on the coffee table in front of us. I promptly swatted them off the table. He chuckled. He seemed quite chipper this evening. Though Markus was chipper most of the time these days. After a moment he took a piece of paper out of his jacket pocket and with bouncing eyebrows handed it to me as if he was giving a list to Santa Claus. I'd actually forgotten that I'd told him to give me a few options for birthday gifts from which to choose. His birthday was two days before Stefan's. I'd already gotten Stefan a very nice pen but I was kind of at a loss as to what to give Markus, so I'd asked him what he'd like.

"What is this?"

"My list. You asked me what I wanted for my birthday before you left for Amsterdam, remember? That's my list. It took almost a month to develop it."

I looked over Markus's list, which was beautifully written in script that clearly derived from several centuries before.

1: Glamour A. into not telling me off just because I think he's too rigid.

2: Glamour A. into being more respectful of P. so that P. is in a better mood and doesn't tell me off continually because A. is offensive to her sensibilities.

3: Glamour A. …

I cracked up before I could even get past the second one. And there were _eight_ of them!

"I can't do _any_ of this, Markus!" I said in the lowest possible whisper.

"Why not? It's all relatively harmless. And life enriching. Death enriching? It is a very simple list of things, any one of which I could be highly appreciative. You asked me what I wanted. It's my birthday and you can deliver the goods. Pick a few. I won't be greedy. The leftovers can be for Christmas."

"Markus, I really hope you're totally trying to pull my leg here, because there is simply no way that Eric would let me do any of this. And I mean, you've got to know that _I_ wouldn't do it. I'd never do that to Andor. Ever. And Eric would be furious if he found out that you even put any of this into writing."

"I handed it directly to you, Sookie. And Eric paid the balance for my BMW, remember? It's being delivered on Tuesday. You can leave Eric out of the equation. He's already been generous. There's no need to trouble Eric for anything else. Pam's your sire according to the books, not Eric. And Pam would agree with my wishlist. She'll probably think I'm being too conservative."

I looked at him and shook my head.

"For heaven's sake, Markus, what were you like when you were _human_?" I asked with a laugh.

"I've forgotten, actually. It was long ago, and my mind got so messed up. I'm sure, however, that I was perfectly reasonable then, too." He smiled wryly. He leaned toward me conspiratorially and said, "Actually, I was the youngest and I was always in trouble. It's how I ended up in this situation in the first place. Wrong place, wrong time, talking to the wrong people. Well, now they're the right people… But, anyway, I'm just asking you to get him to leave me alone a bit. Or to leave Pam alone. That one is pretty selfless, other than the fact that she'll be in better humor when I have to go talk to her about something he wants. She's always so testy and ordering me around and then he says I'm only supposed to take orders from Eric or him. And then see number four is about Cadel. You know how you hate it when he goes after Cadel…"

"But Markus," I said cutting him off in a whisper, "He's your sire. I mean, really, I don't think unless he's being abusive that I could interfere with that. It's like he's a parent or something. Parents are supposed to be annoying. They're… parents. And really, he was always pretty nice with you so far as I've seen."

We were distracted for a moment by the sound of Pam throwing someone out of her office. It sounded like maybe she _really_ threw the person.

Our eyes met and Markus winced a bit. I could hear Pam hissing something at the person in the hallway and then I heard the receding sound of her high heels clicking as she walked away. But Markus didn't lose his train of thought at all.

"Nice? He hardly lets me get a word in!" whispered Markus hoarsely. "The other day first Eric told me off and then after we came out of the office _he _told me off even more just because I told Eric I disagreed with him. But Eric _likes_ knowing if we disagree with him. Although he was rather put off that I disagreed with him in front of Dani. Admittedly, maybe I should have waited until the video conference ended. But it was a discussion! We were talking about security for the Summit. Andor got so angry. Why can't I speak my mind? I've been doing this for twelve years! Does he think I haven't been paying attention? That I don't have opinions at all? I suppose you're going to try to tell me _you_ listen to Eric, right? Never argue with him in front of anyone else? Oh no, not you." He rolled his eyes and made a disgusted grunt. In a clear and normal volume he said, "Favorite color is blue. Not dark. Not light. Not electric. Medium blue, size large. I don't like wool. It makes me itch. The list is what I _really_ want. Give it some thought. Maybe for Christmas?"

He rose and walked away, still light of step, after having taken several items out of his pocket and starting to juggle with them while he walked. One appeared to be a paperweight I recognized as Pam's, obviously 'borrowed' from her desk. I just shook my head. I'd have to ask Cadel to get it back. Markus was possibly even more mischievous than Cadel at present. I couldn't imagine how annoyed Pam would be when she realized it was missing and she was already in a bad mood tonight. Markus had never yet been able to remove a single item from Cadel's room or office without Cadel having noticed within just a minute or two that the item was gone. They now had a game where Markus would take something small and Cadel would steal it back from him. I'd have to get him to snatch Pam's paperweight and put it back myself. The whole business would make Pam even madder if she knew Markus had it and Cadel got it back for her.

I walked over to the Pam's now empty office and looked for her box of matches. I burned Markus's list, chuckling. I pretty sure that no one had been listening, although the conversation had been oblique enough to not reveal much of anything.

When I started to walk back over to the great room, I saw Stefan, looking serene as ever, chatting with someone on Pam's staff who looked very disheveled and upset. Stefan finally nodded and the person went back toward the staff offices.

"Evening, Sookie," said Stefan warmly.

"Pam okay?" I asked quietly.

"Fine. A bumpy start to the evening, that's all. Cadel was downstairs last I saw. I'm sure he'll be here momentarily."

He leaned down and gave me a quick hug and then sailed off into the great room and called out the names of the Weres, gesturing that they should head toward the door to the audience room.

A short time later Cadel came looking for me, looking all flushed and pink and ever so slightly mussed up. I wasn't asking. Actually, I didn't even have to ask, since my nose was working quite well. I put away my phone and rose and we went off to my office to pick up some files and then off to Amelia's house. He chatted with Bert while Amelia and I planned to look at organizing the next few work weeks ahead of us. We were going to Houston for job in a few days. Jamie and Cadel were accompanying us. Jamie was putting together a few other daytime people since things were a little hairy lately on the security end of things. Traveling with me was no picnic.

As soon as I arrived, Bronwyn showed up, looking so sleepy she could hardly stand. It was almost an hour past her bedtime. She climbed onto my lap as I sat down in the kitchen and snuggled up to tell me that she had had a lovely tea party with walruses and otters. They had eaten mussels and she had eaten fish. She showed me a rather impressive cut on the sole of her foot, after annoying Amelia by taking the bandage off, evidently for the third or fourth time that night, so that I could be awed by her wound. She said it hurt and in the morning her grandma was going to heal it but that if her grandma didn't come, that I could fix it for her. It would be fixed, just not so soon that it left her thinking it was okay to go barefoot in the garden, Amelia pointed out. When I asked her how she cut it, Bronwyn said that she had been dancing in her garden and stepped on a jagged rock. She had been dressed, she told me gravely, like a gypsy, wearing all her mommy's scarves. I pointed out to her that Dani, who she knew a bit, knew a _real_ gypsy, but they preferred to be called Roma or Romani. Bronwyn listened to my whole explanation as to why and promptly informed me that gypsy sounded more exciting.

"I'm going to tell you what's going to be exciting," said Amelia rolling her eyes. "What's going to be exciting is you going to bed the way you were told. You are going to be so tired in the morning that I don't even know how you think you will be _awake _to enjoy your grandma's visit."

"I want Aunt Sookie to tuck me in," she said grabbing onto me more tightly. "And to read me a story," she said bouncing a bit in my lap.

"Bronwyn, your father read you two stories earlier," said Amelia making a face.

"I want another story. I want _Angelina_ again. Please?" she asked me with pleading eyes.

Amelia frowned at the last part, but nodded to me. I just stood up with Bronwyn clinging to me and carried her back to her room. I tucked her into her blue sheets, which had a pretty starfish pattern on them, and turned off the light, leaving on only her nightlight, with it's swirling blue patterns tracing around the walls of the room.

"More Angelina?" I asked softly.

She nodded. "I want her," she murmured sleepily. She had an Angelina mouse in a pink tutu, which she hugged to her.

I shuffled through the books on the little shelf in the lower section of her nightstand and quickly found _Angelina Ballerina._ She was asleep by the time I got to the fifth page. I leaned over and kissed her forehead. I pulled the comforter a little higher to cover her better and tucked her stuffed Angelina mouse under the comforter with her. As I did so I felt a jolt of hunger that made me tremble. She was so delicious smelling, so very warm in her comforter. Biting my lip hard, I stroked her glossy blue hair back behind her ear, rose from the bed and turned to exit the room. I hardly jumped when I saw Branwen in the shadows, watching me. She still caught me off guard, so silent and seeming to deliberately tamp down her usual scent. Since my return in December, how many times had I caught her watching me with Bronwyn? I nodded to her as I had in the past and started to walk toward the door. Bert suddenly appeared and gestured that I should go on past. As I passed him I saw him look rather oddly at his mother.

"Fam, fel ach?"

"Yr wyf yn gwylio ei," she said, nodding her chin toward me.

Moments later Bert fell in step next to me. Before he could even say a word, I said,

"She's just being careful."

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I am sorry if she has offended you."

I turned to him and shook my head.

"Not at all. I got hungry when I kissed Bronwyn goodnight. It's really fine. Safer, maybe."

Bert stopped and looked me in the eye.

"You cannot think yourself capable of harming Bronwyn? You are not." Then his eyes sparkled merrily and he chuckled as we passed the playroom. "Did Amelia tell you what she did in there? We've had to forbid her to play with fire in the house after what she did to the curtains and wallpaper in the playroom. Lucky the whole house didn't go up in flames, frankly. My mother was so impressed that she could generate such fire at such an early age." As we moved on toward the kitchen he reiterated in a low voice, "I trust you, Sookie. As does Amelia. You are incapable of harming the child."

I really hoped so. But I also totally understood Branwen on this one. I nodded to Bert and then walked back toward the kitchen. Before sitting back down at the table, I helped myself to a bottle of True Blood, heating it for fifteen seconds in the microwave. I sat down with it and Amelia clinked her bottle of _Negra Modelo_ against my bottle of blood.

Half an hour later, after we'd settled our schedule and our plan, she broached the subject of whether I wanted to work in June.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Well, you're going to have to testify, right? Although what his attorney thinks they can gain from that, I've got no clue. But anyway, maybe we should just take a few weeks off."

"I'll be fine," I said, firmly. "I was just in Europe for more than two weeks. I don't think we should take more time off. If I didn't hurt business enough before, then this is just the icing on the cake, you know? I'll just have to deal."

"Are you sure?" she asked, regarding me carefully and practically squinting as if to discern whether I was really okay with that.

"It's fine, Ams. Really."

"Okay… then I guess we can go do that job in Austin?"

"Sure," I said. "Sounds like a plan."

"You don't think they'll still be after you, right? Once you've testified, it should all die down."

"I really don't know. You heard we were followed tonight? Cadel lost them but I can't really go out of the compound without having _someone_ follow me. I guess if I'm lucky it's some reporter."

She studied me a moment then asked,

"Are you scared? To testify about that night, I mean. Doesn't it really bother you to have to talk about it?"

"I dread Pam having to do the photo-walkthrough. But my testimony? I don't know. I don't want to see that face again. And to see his family. It's just so bad for everyone involved, you know?"

She grimaced and then nodded.

"I can't imagine it…"

She leaned over and gave me a warm embrace. We leaned out foreheads together.

"I'm so sorry Sookie. But I'm selfish enough to be glad. For me, for Bronnie. Part of me is glad that you're still here. Even if it wasn't exactly fair or your choice. I'm just selfish enough for me to be glad for having you here, and for those bastards not to have won."

I sighed. Everyone else seemed to be so happy about me still being here. I hoped I could catch up to everyone else on the matter one of these days.

Cadel and I left shortly before 12:30 am. He remarked that Bert and Amelia seemed so easy with me around Bronwyn and how extraordinary that was for someone my age to be so calm about being around so much food. I cringed at his choice of words. I reminded him that that food was my extended family and told him I was horrified at the idea that most young vampires could happily dine on a nice warm child, which seemed to be what he was implying. Everything in my mind rebelled at the thought. He assured me that hungry was just _hungry _for most vampires and that for most it wasn't like seeking particular prey that led to such behavior. But clearly, he said, at least for me, hungry was not exactly the same.

Who could feed off a child, I thought to myself? Maybe Bert was right. I couldn't envision feeding off of anyone, really. But a child? It was just inconceivable to me. I was bothered enough by the thoughts of children with me already. That I was cold, that I was evil and bloodthirsty. Imagine proving them right on all counts? Never.

**

* * *

**

Around 3:30 am I was talking while polishing Pam's nails. Earlier in the evening she'd been in an absolutely foul humor if the arguing in her office had been an indication. She was still pretty sharp tongued when I'd gotten back to the compound from what I heard from Markus. So I stayed out of her way when I got back and just sent her a text message asking her if we were still on for giving each other a manicure. Now, sitting in my dayroom at the dining table, she was quiet. Since I'd started her nails she'd hardly said a word. I'd chatted on, all the while wondering what was up with her. She often got very annoyed with me if I got in her head, so I just waited for her to talk. I glanced up briefly from her hand to see her looking troubled. She looked away. I kept brushing the peach polish out onto her nails.

"Everything okay? You seem really quiet."

"I was listening. You said that Eric met with her and…" she stopped and drew her hand away.

"What's _wrong_, Pam?"

She looked back at me.

"He asked me to marry him."

And from the look on her face, it was causing her no small amount of stress. I waited to see what she'd say next but she didn't say anything at all.

"So you said…?" I asked her casually, dipping the nail polish brush back into the bottle.

"No, of course. I said no. I mean, clearly that's just not a reasonable idea."

I bit my lip and brushed the polish brush across the lip of the bottle to remove the excess polish. I held out my hand to take hers so I could continue.

"I can already tell from your manner that you believe I have erred," she said in an annoyed tone.

"I didn't say a word, Pam."

"You cannot _possibly_ think it is a reasonable idea."

"Pam, I'm really thinking this is one of those discussions that we'd best not have. Especially if there is finishing your manicure at stake."

"Why? I have a high regard for your opinion. Tell me your opinion. You are the only person I have told, by the way, and if you tell anyone else I will be extremely annoyed. Angry even. I forbid you to tell anyone. You may not even tell Eric. No one at all."

Forbid? I put the brush back in the polish bottle. She was _really_ upset.

"Pam, I'm not going to tell anyone, okay? Not even Eric. I promise. Are you okay?"

"No. No I am not. I am confused. I do not understand how someone who is so professional and organized and pragmatic can be so unrealistic. It is very unsettling. What if he conducted himself this way at work?"

I let out a slight gasp and looked down as I bit my lip. Literally this time, drawing a bit of blood. Damn fangs.

"What? You do not say anything but you continue to give me facial expressions that are full of disapproval. You have punctured your lip. You should not do that. Why did you do that? Do not bite yourself. It will make me cross. Just tell me what you think. Even if you think it will make me angry. I do not care. Tell me."

"Pam how long have you known Stefan?"

"Since mid-July of 1857. I believe it was July 18th. A Saturday. I was with Eric. Well, I mean not _with_ him. Not anymore. We were visiting in Köln. I met Stefan and Cadel. They were sharing a flat somewhere outside the city center. He was very polite. Unlike Cadel, who was excessively jocular and familiar, in spite of the fact that I was very plain that such behavior was inappropriate and not appreciated."

I tried as hard as I could to stifle my smile but didn't quite succeed.

"Why are you smiling? What is amusing about that?"

"Um, the part about Cadel, that's all."

She gasped.

"You are _lying_! I can see from your face that you are lying to me. Why? What is amusing that I remember the date? We heard a concert in Köln. It was quite pleasant. They played Mozart and Schubert. I like Schubert immensely."

"Okay, so basically you're telling me that you've known him about a hundred and seventy years?"

"No. No, I am not. I am telling you I _met_ him almost a hundred and seventy years ago. I did not _know_ him until much more recently. Until January of 2009, when we began to work together, to be more precise."

"Okay, but my point is that you've known him, like in a general sense of being around him now and then, for about a hundred and seventy years, right? You've seen how Stefan acts, the things he does, over a long period of time. And he seems to be a decent person? Honest? Responsible? Reliable? Consistent?"

"Well, for business, of course. Eric would never have him in the position he's in if he was not honest and quite reliable."

"He must really trust him an awful lot Pam, because I mean there's a whole world of difference between putting your child in charge of something and putting some vampire blood relative in charge, right? I don't think forbidding Stefan to screw things up is quite the same as Eric forbidding you to do something. And Stefan has access to just about everything vital in Eric's administration."

"You digress. I do not see the relevance here. What is it that you find so amusing? Get to the point."

"I find it amusing that you remember the day you met the man, that he's obviously incredibly trustworthy, according to your own and your sire's assessment, that you've worked closely with him for more than a decade, been living with him for over a year and that you think it's 'unrealistic' that he wants to get married. Can I finish your left hand now?"

Her entire face went pinched.

"I do _not_ cohabit with him. I have my own rooms. He has his."

I reached out and grabbed her hand and examined the nails while frowning.

"Whatever, Pam. Your rooms are right next to each other, you're always in one or the other, _together_. Half the building knows you want to have the interior wall knocked down to connect the two apartments and anyone looking at the man can see that he loves you. I'm beginning to get a feeling for how everyone feels whenever I get bent out of shape and start doubting things with Eric. Speaking of which, you know, Eric told me that Stefan's carried a torch for you for years. _Years,_ Pam. As in decades. Maybe longer. I'm really not sure how long, but long. So it's not like he's fickle in terms of his interest, right?"

She snatched her hand back.

"All the more reason it is likely to end now that he got what he wanted, _right_?"

"I guess the important thing to focus on is the getting what he _wanted_ part, Pam."

She gave me a look so dark that it bordered on a silent snarl.

I leaned forward slightly and said in a low tone,

"Pam, can I talk to the person that has such rich insights into my nature? The person who explained _me _to Eric_? _Not the one pretending she doesn't get what's going on here? You know, the _other_ you? Is she around? I'd like to talk to _that_ Pam for a minute."

She looked away and nodded almost imperceptibly.

"Okay, what is the deal, Pam? The man asked you to marry him and you're acting like you don't know why. He asked because he loves you, right? Because he's known you a very long time, enjoys your companionship and because you've been living together for more than a year and I guess that that means he must be pretty sure. Frankly, given what _I _know about Stefan, he wouldn't even have wasted a moment of your time if he wasn't totally serious about the entire thing because he would have worried it would be destabilizing to the entire administration here if you two had a falling out. If he went ahead and took the risk of even getting started it's because he's totally committed to the situation. Plus, if he's taken the time to get to know you at _all_ I guess he must know how nervous you would be about the idea of getting married. It's not at all likely that he's kidding around or half-hearted in asking you. So what is your problem here?"

"I do not trust him. Not in that sense."

I looked at her incredulously.

"Well, why are you sleeping with him if you don't trust him, Pam? I mean, that just makes no sense whatsoever."

She moved her head with an almost birdlike tilt.

"But I like him. You don't have to trust someone to enjoy having sex with them. Or even just spending time with them."

I rolled my eyes as I resumed painting her nails, shaking my head and giving a heavy sigh. She just liked Stefan? She just liked having sex with him? She liked spending time with him? I mean really, sometimes vampires were a totally fucked up race of people in my book. She _liked him_? I had seen the way she looked at him and that was a heck of a lot of liking. I still remembered her dancing the night away with him at my wedding eleven and a half years before. And now? Now there was all the laughter from their rooms which were right down the hall from ours and from which I could hear, with my newly vampire ears, so much very much happiness. What was it about vampire or even human nature that makes us distrust happiness, I wondered?

"Was he very upset that you said no?" I finally asked after several more minutes of silence.

"That is the odd part. He did not appear to be. It is very puzzling." She paused and looked directly at me. "I do not wish you to think that I _wanted_ him to be upset. But I am quite puzzled by his reaction."

"Well, what did he say?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all. He changed the subject and talked about going to Barcelona for our vacation, if Eric will allow both of us to be away at the same time. He told me I will like the architecture. Although I have looked at pictures and find it extremely unsophisticated or excessively modern. I'd much prefer Köln but he tells me that the city was very badly damaged in the second World War and that I will not recognize some areas. The same about Dresden, though that I knew. So I suggested Vienna. I even suggested Sweden. He insists that Barcelona is very charming and that I will enjoy the city's ambience and that it will be pleasant because it is new to me and will be warm."

"Pam?"

She looked up at me questioningly.

"Barcelona is really nice although Vienna sounds pretty nice, too. Wherever you go, I'm sure you'll have a great time because you're together. And it's your business about the proposal. But personally, I think you're being utterly ridiculous. I love you but you are even more of a nut case than I am. I'd been back together with Eric for like six months and I married him. I'd only known him for a few years in total, and really, when you think about all time apart, in comparison to your situation, I barely knew the man. It was probably an insane risk to take. Yet _you _told me that it was such a swell idea, remember that? He was so very trustworthy? Did Eric compel you to try to convince me?" I looked up at her. She looked outraged at the idea. "Yeah, I didn't think so. Well, you've known Stefan for over a century and worked with him nightly for more than a decade and you've been seriously involved for over a year. I mean really Pam, if you don't understand why he asked and seems totally nonplussed by the fact that you said no, I don't know what to tell you. Stefan is nothing if not observant. I'm betting that he understands you at least as well as you do me, if not better."

"Perhaps you, yourself are foolish since in turn you think you understand _him_ so well?"

"Yeah, right. Guess so. After all, as we all know, I'm no mind-reader. Other hand for the topcoat, please."

She hesitated giving me a very dark look at my joke, and then asked, as she gave me her other hand,

"_Fine_. Why do _you_ think he said nothing when I said no, if you understand him so well?"

I concentrated on polishing for a moment.

"I guess I think he's going to do what Eric did with me. Just wear you down with constancy. Maybe I'll offer to shoot you for him, for his birthday. May 16th right? We can see if it moves things along a bit, like getting shot did for me. I started changing my tune right about then. It really helped me set my priorities straight. Considering how fast you heal, I hope I don't have to do it more than once, though."

"Eric will be very put out if you shoot me. He does not like it if you and I argue at all. Shooting me would probably infuriate him. I think you will be very sorry if you attempt to harm me. You might finally get yourself punished. And it would set a very bad example if you did that. _I_ could go after Cadel, since it would be okay for you to go after me. Actually… perhaps it might be worth it. _Where_ would you shoot me?"

"Ya huh. They look really pretty, don't you think? This color is so pretty with your coloring."

"Changing the subject works just fine for me. It _is_ a very pretty color. I think we should put it on you, too. I refuse to put that dark color on you. It is almost black. Too affected. You look like a Goth person, like that cousin of yours who was purportedly Hunter's eggmother but clearly never did much of anything with him and got herself killed for good by that jealous, salt-damaged slob. Goth is simply not appropriate for the image that we are trying to cultivate here. We have a standard of feminine professionalism that we seek to maintain, under the edicts of the AVL. The peach or that pink. Which one?"

"Am _I_ allowed to choose my own polish color, thank you? The dark plum was my choice."

"_No_. No, you are not allowed to choose. I am very tired of all the dark colors. It is enough already. As your sire of record I insist that you cease with the dark colors immediately. You will wear lighter colors, even in clothing, so that you look happy and eventually you will _be_ happy. Pretend that you have been compelled. Just pretend. Go along with it. It will make Eric jealous that I have gotten you to do it and he couldn't. It should be worth it to you, just for that alone. Entertainment value. He will be distressed and we will laugh at him."

"Entertainment value, kind of like the idea of me shooting you for Stefan's birthday?" I said, quietly taking in the fact that she clearly knew I was still quite unhappy.

"No. Not like that in the least. That is offensive, not entertaining. And you wouldn't do it anyway, because you don't like shooting people. I, on the other hand, like painting your nails light colors and I _do_ like shooting people, which might be a thought with Cadel. Or even Markus. I'd shoot Andor but then both Stefan _and_ Eric would be cross. And I'm going to paint your nails a happy color, even if I have to overpower you. I am much stronger than you are and there is simply nothing you can do about it." She paused and looked me directly in the eyes again. "Don't make me go for you."

She grabbed my hand and started applying a base coat. I just laughed and let her have her way.

"Fine, Pam. Whatever. The peach, then. That pink is just too… perky. It's annoying and I can't believe I ever wore it. And you're kidding yourself if you think Eric won't get upset if you do anything the Cadel. He told me that last year he forbad you to throw things at him when he teased you about Stefan."

"Why wouldn't you wear annoying colors? It suits you. I cannot believe you actually don't see that you're even more annoying now than you were before. Just the other day, Eric was complaining that he hadn't thought it was possible for you to get even more stubborn. He was not thinking about it clearly. Now you are less fragile. There is nothing to stop you, not even common sense. He is so very lucky that he has me. Eric is very devious but lacks fundamental insight into how to truly manipulate you. Insight which I possess in spades. I know exactly how to get you to do what I want."

"Pam, I tell you, with much love and friendship, that you're totally full of…"

She cut me off,

"I certainly hope you are not going to curse at me. I am your sire of record. You must show me respect. If you are disrespectful in private, you may slip in public and if you are disrespectful in public and I will be forced to punish you. You would not like my punishment. It would involve _many_ things you do not like. I have more than a decade of experience in what will enforce correction with you. I will make Andor watch you in place of Cadel. I will put him entirely in charge of you. You will have to be respectful not just to me, but to follow Andor's wishes as well. And I will make you reread _The Mill on the Floss_."

"Don't ever tell him I said so but I think that Andor is frequently right about things."

"He's a humorless sod."

I burst out laughing.

"Well, Eric loves him and in a weird way, I do, too. We have sort of an agreement to put up with each other, for Eric's sake. But I'd go nuts if Andor was really in charge of protecting me, Pam. And probably he would, too. Both because of me and because of worrying about Eric. It would be very counterproductive to our security. And it would probably drive Eric insane. After that time in Tunica we've never tried that arrangement again. For a good reason. I think you should come up with an alternative."

"I refuse. So you will be respectful and follow my guidance, even for clothing. Red and other, lighter colors, as well. Blue perhaps. More dresses, just as before. And if you attempt to cross me, you will find yourself overseen by Andor. Think of how unhappy _everyone_ will be. It is your duty to avoid that. Perhaps the threat will keep you on the right path. I have thought about _my_ duty and I will have to raise you properly. I'm even considering whether it would become necessary to make you read Nathaniel Hawthorne. Although I do not wish to be accused of being too harsh."

I rolled my eyes as she finished the basecoat.

"Wow, Pam. I am just so very scared. I seriously hope you never _really_ turn anyone because if you do, I'm going on a decade long vacation to Amsterdam and Paris or something. The suffering would be too painful to witness. Wardrobe demands. Book selections. Andor. Wow. You realize you have Ocella's blood in your veins, right? I mean, what happened?"

Her face went quite sober again.

"I have been too traumatized by this entire experience to ever contemplate such a thing. I will _never_ create another child." She paused for a moment and she looked so pained that I felt terrible for even suggesting such a thing. Her face brightened as she made a clear cut effort to compartmentalize her thoughts. "On a completely different note, you know Eric was showing me the new drawings for the upstairs rooms at the estate, earlier. Is there a reason why there is a sitting room between my room and your room? Are you expecting to sit and chat with me, just as now? You will have to be very well-behaved, if so. And Cadel has complained that my room is much larger than his room. I told him Eric clearly just likes me better… Then I pointed out the sitting room, as well. I told him he is not allowed in it because it is _mine_."

I just chuckled softly. The whole reason for the third floor sitting room was to have a more family-oriented space that wasn't inside our bedroom areas. That way the guys could hang out or we could all just sit around in more privacy than could be had downstairs. And of course, Pam's bedroom room was larger because Eric was assuming that it was going to be her shared room with Stefan… It didn't seem to be the moment to point out that any space allotted to Stefan alone was now likely to be near Hunter's rooms on the second floor. But looking at Pam, I didn't think that it was too likely that Stefan would be on his own by the time we finally moved to the estate. She seemed much more relaxed, having talked about Stefan's proposal. All the teasing banter had set her at ease. I wondered how many times he'd have to ask. I was amused at the idea that he'd probably just keep asking until she caved in. Stefan was so very, very patient and calm. He'd been the one with me when I tried to see if I could feed from a human. He hadn't said a thing about it to Pam or Eric or anyone, either. He'd been quite supportive when I said I couldn't do it. Stefan drank a lot of bottled blood himself. I sighed internally. I figured he'd win her over even if it took him decades. I was absolutely certain that he really loved her. And that she loved him.

"Pam, back to the important topic, you seriously need to expand your descriptors for affection. Get a grip and drop the 'I just like you' BS. And by the way, don't think I didn't notice that you defended Cadel to the hilt the other day when Eric was ranting about our internet costs being so high when you had him signing off on all those checks. 'Best security and surveillance your money can buy'? I heard you say the words myself. And you and I know perfectly well that part of the reason our internet service is so expensive is that Cadel's playing those damn online games and wants the fastest service he can get for that. But you _defended_ him. So I really don't think you'll be shooting him. I don't think you'd do anything to upset Stefan, at all."

Her eyes narrowed.

"There are times, Sookie Stackhouse, when I truly despise you."

"But you're really stuck with me now, aren't you? We're on the books, you and I."


	5. Chapter 5

**V.**

**End of May, 2021**

I awoke to find that Eric was not in the bed. Just as I started to grouse to myself about this point, I heard quiet voices several rooms away. I rose and pulled on yesterday's jeans and a t-shirt of Eric's. I walked, curious about what was going on, over to the dayroom and was surprised to find Hunter, Eric and of all people Bronwyn, who was sitting in Eric's lap. She appeared to be dazed, and almost zombie-like, not even looking over at me. She was very pale, had been crying and there was blood on her clothing and on her hands. I felt a jolt of very un-vampire like panic. Something was very, very wrong.

"What _happened_?" I asked, looking at them as I knelt in front of her and stroked her cheek.

Eric looked down at me and said,

"There's been an… _accident_. Amelia is injured." He nodded to Hunter.

Hunter turned to me.

"I knew something was wrong in the afternoon. Browyn was… calling me, somehow. I heard her voice calling to me. I don't know where Bert is. I called the police, they came and then I spoke with Bennett because I'd asked for their liaison. Amelia is in the ICU at University Hospital."

To which he added mentally, with a grim expression:

_It wasn't an accident. Amelia was attacked. I can't get any information out of Bronwyn. She isn't talking. Her thoughts are so chaotic and I can't really understand them. She's too hard for me to read. I am worried that Bennett is going to want more information. I don't know where Bert is. And I don't know if anyone _saw_ Bronwyn._

Bronwyn started crying again and reached out for me. Eric rose to standing, and then I did. He handed her over to me.

"She clearly wants you. I'll get you something to drink. Why don't you see if you can get her to talk to you."

I gasped. The idea of holding her, so little and warm, in clothes that smelled like blood on top of it, and… and I'd just risen, ravenous as ever and hadn't even had a _single_ bottle! He pressed her into my arms and she hooked her legs around my hips and just clung to me, nestling her head into the nook below my chin and then relaxing against me. I walked over to the daybed with her and sat down, leaning back. She literally clung to me, her small hands grabbing onto the t-shirt. My teeth practically chattered with hunger but I stroked through her hair, then rubbed her little back and pushed my hunger as far out of my mind as I could get it for a few moments.

My mind filled with thoughts of Amelia. What had happened? Who had attacked her? What had they done to her?

_Hunter, what did you see?_ I projected out to him, meeting his eyes.

_We can't talk about it here. Not even like this. I think… I think she hears us or something… I'm not sure. She'd stopped crying but when I just thought to you, she started again. She hadn't cried for over an hour. We shouldn't talk about it right now._

Eric showed up with two bottles of warmed True Blood. He sat down next to me and put them on the coffee table.

"I can hold her again," he said softly offering his arms.

She let out a low moaning sound and latched onto me even more strongly. I sat up and leaned forward and Eric just handed me a bottle. I shuddered as I drank, trying to force myself to drink slowly. I didn't like feeling her warmth and associating it even with the bottled blood. I really struggled to separate the two in my mind.

"Has anyone called Bert just to tell him she's here?" I asked.

"We've left two messages. Hunter, you said you've been with her since about 2 pm?" Eric said.

Hunter nodded.

"We didn't get back here until about 4 pm, though. We were stuck there while I answered questions."

"And she hasn't said anything about what happened? Did she have anything to eat or to drink? Why is she still in soiled clothing? You could have put her in a t-shirt of yours or mine or something, right?" I asked.

"She was too upset. I tried to coax her to talk but she wouldn't and she won't eat or drink. And I was too shy to try to get her to change into something," Hunter replied. "I didn't want to make her more upset or uncomfortable. She really wanted you. She's been asking for you since she got here."

I finished the first bottle and paused to rock her a bit. I hummed to her, stroked her hair and she seemed to relax a bit. I was still starving though, so I started the second bottle while she just lay against me. I tried to think of it like just having water when I'd been really thirsty, rather than food when hungry, and started to feel a bit calmer with the whole thing.

"Hunter, can you make her some warm chocolate milk? Put extra chocolate. She likes it really dark."

I just rocked her and hummed while Hunter heated the milk in the microwave. Eric sat silently next to me. She still wouldn't drink the warm milk when Hunter brought it, though. When I'd finished my two True Bloods, I rose with her and said,

"You need a bath, little one. Let's go and get you cleaned up, and then I'm going to have you take a nap."

I picked up the warm milk and started to walk toward the bathroom with her in my arms. I turned back slightly.

"Can someone bring me my phone? I want to text someone who may be able to get in touch with Branwen since you couldn't get Bert."

Bronwyn started crying again and clung to me more tightly. She was afraid. I got a flash of her being afraid she was going to be _punished_?

"Bronnie, I just need to find your Daddy and tell him you're with me, okay? He must be worried if he doesn't know where you are. I think he must know, but just in case, we need to be sure, okay?"

I managed to get her to sit on the toilet while I ran the bath water. She had a bit of her warm milk. I put some rose-scented bath gel into the tub to make it sudsy like a bubble bath. I looked at her tear-stained face and her clothes and hands, which still had blood on them, too. I tried to gaze into her mind and saw chaos and fear. Her eyes met mine. She sensed me in her mind. I tried to soothe her, silently. She seemed in the end, to accept the soothing.

I sent a quick text message to Mathilde, saying that I urgently needed to get in touch with Branwen and didn't know how. It was already so late in Amsterdam, well past midnight. I wondered if any of them were even awake. Then I sent a text message downstairs to Ruben, telling him that we needed some sushi-quality raw fish upstairs. I wanted to have food for her after she'd napped.

I started to unbutton the neckline of her shirt and reluctantly touched the bodice, which had streaks of what was no doubt Amelia's blood. Bronwyn gave a bit of a sob as I fleetingly thought about what might have happened to Amelia. Just in case she really could catch my thoughts, I tried to push it out of my mind. But it was too late. She started crying.

"Shhh… You have to let me take care of you, sweetheart. Let's get you undressed. You need to be clean to take a nap, right? You'll feel better when you're all clean and warm."

I got the bloody clothing off her and lifted her into the tub, since she seemed quite unsteady. I sat down on the floor next to the tub and began washing her little arm and hand with a wet and soapy washcloth. She sat silently in the warm water and finally murmured in a small voice,

"I need salt."

"Oh, of course…" I said, wondering how it was that I'd not remembered it. I rose and went to the doorway and called out, "Can one of you bring me that big box of rock salt I had for the ice cream maker?"

Eric came in to hand me the box of salt. Just looking at his face, I got the feeling that Amelia was really not okay at _all_. I didn't want to try to check out whatever he was thinking, though. I shivered but stayed focused on Bronwyn. I opened the box of rock salt and poured some in the bath. I stopped pouring, hovering the box in front of her, and she touched my arm so that I'd pour more. I emptied the box and watched the salt dissolve all the bubbles, though the water still smelled like rose scent. She suddenly rolled into the water, immersing herself, moving almost like a dolphin. When she finally sat back up, her blue eyes, so much like mine, met my own.

"They hit my mommy with a bat. They kicked her when she fell."

I swallowed hard and reached out and stroked her cheek, and ran my fingers through her wet blue hair, combing it smooth with my fingers.

"Oh, Bronwyn…" I whispered, "I'm so sorry, baby girl. I'm so very sorry." I could hardly even speak.

With her jaw set, in a tight and hard little voice, she said,

"I set them on fire."

I gasped softly and tried to get a hold of myself. I rubbed my face quickly and went back to washing her back, while my mind rapidly parsed what Hunter had said. That Bennett would come asking questions. I remembered what Bert had done long ago to Salome's henchmen. But they had been vampires. Had these guys burned to death, I wondered? Flashing into her mind, as deftly as I could, I was certain that she had, in fact, killed them. She was seven years old. She should not have to deal with _any_ of this in my estimation, no matter what she had done to defend herself and Amelia. But for just an instant all I could think was that she'd set them on fire and _watched_ them burn to death… It was simply horrifying.

"Am I going to be punished?"

"No, sweetheart. No one is going to do anything to you, Bronwyn."

"Will Bennett take me away? Or will he hurt Hunter for helping me?" she asked with a worried look on her little face.

"It's going to be okay."

"I'm in very bad trouble," she said with certainty.

"You need to take a nap."

"You think I was bad."

"No, Bronnie. I think… I think you did the best that you could when you saw a really horrible thing happen. I think you're seven and it wasn't supposed to be your job to have to protect your mommy from bad people."

"Because I set them on fire my mommy will be okay. She didn't do anything to them and they hurt her. They deserved what I did. I should have done it when they first hit her. They were very bad people. Even if my daddy is mad at me, I am not sorry." She jutted out her little chin.

I swallowed hard and just nodded, bending over and kissing her. I certainly hoped her mommy was going to be alright. I couldn't envision Bert being mad at her and I knew that Branwen definitely wouldn't be at all.

After toweling her dry, I put her in a powder blue t-shirt that was tight fitting on me but which looked like a generous nightgown on her. I carried her over to our big bed, and let her burrow into the soft silk comforter in our dark and windowless room. I gave her a stuffed teddy bear that Alexander had given me as I focused my thoughts into her mind to make her rest. I recited the _Angelina Ballerina _story from memory and then sang to her until she finally fell asleep.

When I went back over to the dayroom, Cadel was there with Eric and Hunter. He'd gotten into Amelia and Bert's house, since the ward recognized him, and taken clothing for Bronwyn, along with her Angelina mouse. Andor and Pam showed up moments later, mentioning that Stefan was talking to people downstairs, stalling on the meeting schedule for the night, not sure what was going on and whether to cancel everything. But my focus was Hunter. I could finally get details. I was almost afraid to ask for them or look into his thoughts and see them.

"What exactly did you see when you found her? Who were they? Could you see any evidence of who they were?" I asked Hunter, as Eric handed me another warm bottle of blood.

"They were outside your office. Just at the boundary of the wards. Amelia was unconscious. She'd been beaten, I think with a baseball bat and maybe by them hitting and kicking her. She has a serious head injury. She was bleeding, from her mouth, her ears, her face. And Bronnie had…" He stiffened and looked down. "She hid from me at first. I called 911. She didn't want to show herself. I just talked to her and looked at them while she cried. She told me her father was angry at her. But Bert wasn't there. AT least I didn't see him. There were three of them. They'd been burned to death. I couldn't even tell if they were male or female. So there was no way to know who they were. I guess they were male because of the size but… Anyway, when the police arrived I told them they needed their liaison officer. They called Bennett right away. But even Bennett didn't know what to make of it. Amelia was clearly very badly injured so how could she had done that to them? How does anyone set three people on fire and not get burned themselves? And it's not like regular witchcraft, right? Witches don't wield elements like that and Bennett's known Amelia for many years. So I'm guessing they don't know how to describe what happened."

He paused and drew a breath. He looked quite pale and worried as he continued.

"He asked me a whole bunch of questions, including what I was doing there, and I guess the autopsy and investigation is going to look for evidence _I_ set them on fire or something. At least I was in class until I felt her summon me. Maybe we can make them think all four of them were attacked by someone else and I just showed up by chance to get something for you? But I don't know what they're going to think when they don't find evidence that there was an accelerant or fuel or something. It was during the day, so there wasn't a vampire directly involved. Weres couldn't have done that. At least I don't think he saw Bronwyn, or that anyone else did. But I'm not sure. She was there the whole time I talked to him. She concealed herself. I tried really hard not to think about the whole situation as I talked to him… But I really think that she takes it all in, whether she's like you and me or not. She sat there, crying when Bennett was asking all these questions about the burned bodies. But they couldn't see her. Only I could see her. She was so scared."

He shook his head grimly, and continued,

"When Bennett told me I could leave, after the homicide people arrived, I just walked toward my car, opened the driver's door and let Bronnie slip in that way, scooting over to the passenger side. And then I came directly home. They took Amelia to University Hospital. To the trauma unit. I sent a text message to Bert's cell phone but didn't get a response, so then I sent a text message to Dr. Ludwig, even though I didn't know exactly what she could do. I tried calling Bert twice but it just ended up going to voice mail. When I think about Amelia, I think…" he looked over at Eric and Pam and then finally at me. "It looked like they hit her in the head with the bat. I think it's really bad." He shuddered. "It was the worst thing I've ever seen. I mean she was still breathing, but…"

Pam and I both exhaled hard, simultaneously. Pam leaned her head on my shoulder.

"She said Bert was angry at her? Like he already knew? But he wouldn't have just left them there…" I said, puzzled.

"She seemed so upset and so confused. I didn't understand her at all and then she just stopped talking and only cried."

"But how is Amelia now? I mean this was hours ago already. How is she now? Did you call Dr. Ludwig to see if she'd seen her?"

"I did," said Eric soberly. "She's seen her. It's pretty bad. She says that Amelia has suffered brain trauma and she has probably lost a kidney from blunt trauma. She has multiple fractures, including a very serious skull fracture. They've removed a portion of her cranium because of swelling. Ludwig wants to know if we'd give her blood, so I offered mine. But she may have suffered brain damage and Ludwig doesn't know how things will repair even with vampire blood. But she said that she was hanging on quite well given the severity of the injuries. In fact, she said that it was a miracle she was still alive. And Bennett must know something is up because there are guards outside her room according to Ludwig. She says she thinks they are fearful she could be attacked again because they are questioning anyone who enters and checking identification, even for the staff."

I had my hand over my mouth. I felt sick, just as I did when I was human and hearing something horrible. Being vampire didn't make a bit of difference when you were horrified by something.

I could see only one reason why someone would go after Amelia. She was _my_ business partner.

My phone vibrated. I looked and saw that I had a message from Mathilde. She told me that Branwen or her son would contact me and that she understood there was a 'tragedy' in the family and was so very sorry. I texted back that she could tell Branwen that I had her granddaughter safe with me.

"Branwen already knows," I said. I looked over at Hunter. "So this was outside the office? At the edge of our ward?"

He nodded. "I think maybe she went to put something in the mailbox? I don't know if Bronnie was with her but maybe she was and they just… Whatever. They're dead, Amelia is gravely injured. And Bronwyn… she _summoned_ me. I don't know how else to describe it. I left in the middle of my philosophy class. I felt like I was compelled to leave. I was drawn to exactly where they were…"

I simply could not imagine how frightened and horrified Bronwyn had been both at what she had seen and what she'd done. No matter how confident she said she was that she'd done right. It was terrible.

"She can't teleport or apparate or whatever it is they do. Not yet. She doesn't have the focus and they worry it could hurt her so she's not allowed to do that. She's only allowed to summon. That's what Bert told me at the beginning of the year. I guess I was asleep so the next best thing was you. She knew she could trust you to keep her safe and get help for Amelia. If she'd tried Peggy and Jamie there would have been too many questions." I looked at Eric. "I want to go see Amelia. I want to see what has happened to her, what can be done to heal her. I can give her my blood. I _owe_ her my blood. It was outside _our_ office. So the reasons it happened are… obvious. It's because I'm still testifying. Even after all the threats. Attacking her was a message. A warning. She was collateral damage for someone going after me."

Eric looked at me and shook his head.

"Be that as it may, you should stay here. Andor and I will go and meet Ludwig at the hospital. If she needs healing, old blood will be better anyway. Bronwyn wouldn't tell Hunter or me what happened. Hunter had only guessed based on what he'd seen. He couldn't really read her and you can. You should stay here with her in case she wakes. It's also safer that way. Andor and I will go. I'll tell Stefan to reschedule things for tonight. Let's go," he said to Andor.

They quickly departed.

Pam looked at me and asked, shaking her head,

"_Where _is Bert? Why isn't he here?"

"I don't know. But if Bronwyn said he was angry, maybe he's there. Like he's with Amelia, _in_ her. Like to keep her alive or something. It sounds like she actually saw him there. Maybe what she saw as his being angry at her was just being angry at what had happened. I mean, I know that Bert is pretty benevolent and all, but let's face it… he's never had a problem with defending his own when pushed. I don't think he'd fault Bronwyn for defending herself or Amelia in whatever means she has in her possession. And I mean, Branwen would… well, never mind, what Branwen would have done in a circumstance like that…" I said, looking at Cadel who was a little wide-eyed.

Cadel looked at me and said,

"So she really set them on fire? Little Bronwyn? We're sure then that it wasn't Bert?"

I just nodded.

"She told me she did, Cadel. She said they were bad."

"Fucking bastards," said Cadel. "Who goes after a woman and a child? The bloody cowards deserved it."

"Bronwyn didn't, though," I said soberly. "How do you process knowing you did something like that when you're only seven? She's already so scared of what she did because she's gotten into so much trouble just for burning things in the house. And this was human beings. I can't even begin to imagine how seeing what she's just seen and doing what she's just done could affect her."

Hunter, who had been standing there silently said softly,

"But she could talk to you. That helps her."

He sat down on the couch and looked lost in his thoughts. After talking a few moments longer with Pam and Cadel, I turned back to look for him but he was gone.

An hour later, as I sat reading, or more accurately, trying to read, on Eric's side of the bed, Bronwyn started screaming and I tried to calm her. I picked her up in my arms and, grabbing her face, pushed into her mind, trying to soothe her. She was so totally open it was like reading a human mind. The flight of images was terrifying. And I was a forty-two year old adult. Imagining seeing such things, through the eyes of a child, was truly just horrible. Hesitantly, I tried slowing down her thinking with a bit of glamour. It didn't seem to work at first but then she seemed to grasp that I was trying to help her and she let me. I tried to make a veil of sorts, to distance her from the raw emotions of what she was replaying in her mind. I stroked her, cradled her, rocked her, as I mentally tried everything I could possibly think of that I had ever used to re-center myself, in response to my own experience of trauma. She clung to me and eventually fell back to sleep on me.

When Eric and Andor returned a short time later they were sober, shaken. Bert had literally peeled himself out of Amelia just as Dr. Ludwig started to administer Eric's blood. He had somehow managed to coexist in her. Dr. Ludwig said that she was sure Amelia would have died had he left her sooner. Bert said he hadn't even thought there had been sufficient time to try to take her 'elsewhere'. He had seen Hunter arrive and depart with Bronwyn and was very relieved that Bronwyn was with me. He said he'd come and get her the following day or send his mother. Andor gave Dr. Ludwig still more blood for Amelia.

When Bronwyn awoke, I got her to eat a bit of fish. She fell asleep again a short time afterwards. Hunter offered to watch her after dawn. Once Amelia was more stable, Bert came for Bronwyn and took her to Branwen.

In the days that followed, although Amelia began to recover, she was still too fragile for Bronwyn to see her. So Bronwyn started 'showing up' unexpectedly next to me. I awoke most evenings to find her nestled against me in our bed. At first it really frightened me, because I was so afraid I could bite her, hungry as I was normally when I woke. I told Bert that it worried me, but she continued to do it. So I managed to push the hunger I felt on waking back to the farthest reaches in my mind. Somewhere deep inside my supposedly predatory newly vampire brain taking care of her ranked as a much higher need even than food.

I would soothe her, talk to her, and try to find a means to get her to sleep on her own since she was having a great deal of difficulty sleeping at night. Finally, I started instilling thoughts of sleeping at a particular time in her mind, so that Bert could take her home and get her to fall asleep by a reasonable hour. Bert, involved as he was in trying to help Amelia, seemed to trust my taking care Bronwyn, and my obviously being in her mind, without question. The fact that she let me in her mind was like a sacred trust. I reflected a lot on what I could do to ease her horrible memories of that afternoon but leave them intact, since those memories were hers and part of who she was.

Amelia continued to regain her strength. She was transferred to Dr. Ludwig's care as soon as she was stable enough to permit it. Eric and Andor both gave her still more blood, to the point that she was almost at the threshold of what was safe. Then Bert and Branwen took her off to their world for treatment. When they returned her to Dr. Ludwig's care, she was sightless in one eye, from a detached retina. The eye itself had quickly healed appearance-wise and looked perfectly normal. She was going to see an ophthalmologist at LSU in a week's time. She was having some trouble speaking but continued to quickly mend in the days and weeks that followed. She also lost a kidney and walked with a limp. And this was after having the blood of two almost eleven hundred year old vampires and being immersed in some godly fountain of youth once she was stable. Bert conceded it was a miracle that she'd lived at all. Jamie and Toussaint watched Amelia at Ludwig's hospital whenever Bert had to be away, as she slowly recovered. We were concerned that she was still unsafe. Of course the amount of security around me and around the compound was truly daunting at this point. I didn't even bother to go out. There was now a constant security presence at our office building, just to avoid any property damage there.

In an act that I considered to be morally at my outer limits, when Bennett showed up one evening to start questioning Hunter about what had really happened, I glamoured him. Bronwyn was still worried that she'd gotten Hunter in terrible trouble. So, after finding out their addresses, we systematically glamoured the family members of the men who had attacked Amelia. The men had been identified through dental records. We glamoured the families so they'd stop asking questions so aggressively. To protect our children, my friends and to bring some sense of closure to the questioning families of the perpetrators. Closure that didn't involve Bert and Branwen incinerating them for asking too many questions. Because there was no doubt in my mind after looking at the fury in Bert's eyes as he looked not just at what had happened to Amelia, but at Bronwyn and how traumatized she was, that they'd have done it. I didn't even want to imagine what Branwen's perception of reasonable collateral damage in seeking revenge might be.

Andor complimented me on my fine moral reasoning in deciding that glamouring people was much better than letting Bert and Branwen deal with things. I told him to leave me alone, called him a whole bunch of names and then we glared at each other, annoyed. He and Cadel had gone with me to do it, though, so what more could I say?

Meanwhile, for the first time since I'd been turned, I had found something beyond just giving my blood that appeared to be useful about having been turned vampire. My ability to better get into Bronwyn's head was really helping her. Before I could read a person's thoughts but there wasn't much you could do with what you read, especially not if the person was really suffering. You could only feel bad for them and try to listen supportively if they actually talked to you about things, but many times people wouldn't talk about things that affected them. Now I could see those things and kind of give someone a nudge in the right direction toward feeling better or at least not feeling so pained.

At the start of second week in June Bert arrived in our room and looked at Bronwyn, asleep on the bed, in my Saints sweatshirt, my stuffed bear under her cheek and her Angelina Ballerina mouse clasped in her arms. He looked at me and shook his head.

"You have a skill with her that I do not. That even my mother does not. Whatever it is that you are doing, you comfort something deep inside her. She has terrible nightmares when she is away with my mother. They've had to sedate her several times. She is calm after being with you. My mother says she thinks it is because you have had them yourself and perhaps you better understand these sorts of nightmares? Of course, she also said some other rubbish, but I'm not taking any of that seriously at all. Clearly you have a gift with her."

I frowned, knowing exactly what 'rubbish' he was getting. No doubt in Branwen's eyes, it all came down to her having been my egg. It amazed me, however, that given the way she generally seemed to think of vampires, that Branwen was taking Bronwyn's being in my care to this extent. She'd seemed so distrustful of my interaction with Bronwyn, I thought to myself. She hadn't entered our rooms to check on her a single time.

"Maybe it is the experience of knowing something of what she's going through. I certainly was plagued with nightmares for many years when I was alive. I know what they can do to you. Eric helped me with mine. He put a lot of thought into how to do it with Dr. Ludwig. Maybe between that, and my own experience of them, I have a sense of how to help her. But I guess I think that everyone has a different reaction to their bad memories of things. Though I know she is getting better. But it's not like we can take it all away, is it? They're her memories. We can't take them away from her. We can only help her with them."

"What does she see, in her mind, when she has them? You can read her thoughts?"

"Her thoughts, her memories of that afternoon are very chaotic. She seems to have felt very helpless at first and then so angry. It's like she exploded and it was chaos. She sees what they did to Amelia and that she couldn't or didn't stop them after the first blow. Then what she did to them. She replays it in her mind, again and again. I'd have trouble sleeping myself after seeing it so many times in _her_ mind, if I wasn't dead."

"Then what do you do? To help her? What are you doing?"

"Well, most of the time I try to get her to see if as if she was standing somewhere else, like at a distance, holding my hand while I remind her that it all turned out okay and that Amelia is safe now. She can see it from farther away so it doesn't hurt her as much. Or sometimes I suggest there is a veil in between her and the scene and her side is the safe side and that Amelia is with us on that side. But the real problem for her is what she hears. I try to get her to disconnect from the sounds a bit. That's where she really gets terrorized."

"What she hears?" asked Bert, somewhat puzzled.

"Don't get me wrong… the stuff she _saw_ was really awful. But what she heard, Amelia screaming, the sounds of being hit and kicked and then their screams as they burned… that's what really haunts her in her dreams and, I think, even when she's awake. She turned away for part of it, in shock, but I think she blames herself that she didn't burn them sooner, even though she thinks she was very bad to burn them at all. She'd gotten punished for burning things at home. She knows that burning humans or really anyone is very, very bad. But she thinks they were very bad. So she is very confused, Bert. She doesn't know if what she did was right or if she is a very bad and evil girl. She just wanted to save her mommy. The fact that she's getting so many confusing reactions from people doesn't help, either. She has a sense though, that she has this power to do very damaging things and that maybe she misused it. I guess the thing is just to get her to see that she's a child and that she is learning to be responsible with what she can do. That they did something very bad to her mother and that maybe even if what she did was wrong, they were much worse because they were adults and they put her in that bad position to do the things she did. But, I mean, it's a terrible thing, no matter which way you look at things. It's terrible for everyone involved. Still they were the ones in the greater wrong and she's just a child. She's going to need to find peace with that. And no matter what your mother says, Bronwyn knows that she is part human and that those people were her own kind, even though she doesn't look like them or want to ever think or be anything like them."

He stared at me as I spoke. Being stared at by Bertram Gower, even as a vampire, was rather daunting. I really didn't want to imagine Branwen staring at me like that.

"You are _okay_ with what I'm doing, right?" I said, somewhat apprehensively. "If you don't like it, or want me to do something else, or not do anything, you can tell me. I was just… doing things that have helped me. Like tuning out sounds, and trying to get a sense of distance and imagining that I'm with someone I feel safe with, or switching to something else entirely, when it is just more than I could bear or something. Sometimes a distraction when it gets really bad is a very helpful thing. She loves the cats. I can tell her to think of their purring drowning out the sounds of the other noises and to feel their fur and the rumbling under her hand. Or Angelina, dancing and the sound of her music."

He got this odd look on his face but said quietly, "I'm fine with what you are doing. I am quite grateful for it."

Then I thought maybe he'd looked at me that way because of my take on what Branwen had seemed to have told or implied to Bronwyn, which was the Bronwyn was a good girl for having used her abilities as she had and that she had sort of a divine right to use them because of what she was.

"I'd never say anything bad about your mother's take on things to her. You know that, right? I told her what really matters is the way she feels about what happened, not what everybody else is thinking. I don't want her not to have her memories but she needs to understand them in a way that she can live with them."

His eyes were still so intense as he looked at mine. He nodded and then bent to scoop her up.

"Agreed," he said.

And then they were gone.

Three days later she was back in bed next to me when I awoke. But she'd gone three days instead of two, so I knew things were improving. After kissing her goodnight and leaving her playing with Hunter and Cadel, I went to testify in a specially convened nighttime hearing in the murder trial of the State of Louisiana vs. William Martin Kindsley. I was the murder victim.

Pam was also called to testify, as a witness. Andor and Stefan accompanied us. The State's Attorney did not want Eric to appear in the courtroom, saying that it would be too polarizing. As it was, the trial was a media circus. Thankfully, only a limited number of reporters were allowed in the Courthouse, and they were not allowed into the roped off areas where we were to wait to testify. I'd also steadfastly refused to have anyone from the AVL accompany me in any obvious way. They were sitting inside. Pam took the witness stand first, while I waited out in the hall with Andor, so that I couldn't 'influence' her testimony. I was very nervous about testifying and even just seeing the man again. But I felt worse about Pam having to testify and relive that terrible night. Andor sat next to me on the bench outside and put his arm around me. We didn't talk. And in spite of our history of chafing each other, I felt very safe having him there with me.

When Pam came out, it was obvious that she'd been crying. Stefan's arm was around her. Several photographers snapped pictures of her, of all of us. Stefan turned her away from the cameras and tried to comfort her, whispering to her softly. They called for me and I steeled myself. Andor offered me his hand as I rose and walked toward the doors to enter the courtroom. He squeezed my hand and we entered and he walked to the last row of the gallery with me and then I was directed to the witness stand by the baliff.

The State Attorney, Roland Tannen, had evidently made much of my history with the FBI and the DHS. He'd also manage to slip in the fact that there was a current federal grand jury investigating hate crimes against supernatural persons in addition to the fact that I'd previously been a well-known federal grand jury witness who had even testified before congress about hate crimes against supernaturals and the need for broader civil rights. By the time the jury actually got to see me, they seemed united in their fascinated anticipation as they watched me enter, get sworn in and then sit. I looked out at the prosecution and defense tables, and didn't flinch as I met Kindsley's eyes, then at the gallery with its audience composed of reporters, city officials, AVL representatives, Andor who kept his eyes fixed on me as he nodded encouragement and… Bert, who smiled at me. He was leaning against a wall at the back, and I was fairly certain he was invisible to most everyone else from the way he was dressed, which was fairly casual for a courtroom. He was wearing jeans, a t-shirt and sandals.

The AVL representatives smiled at me as well. I had followed instructions, fearing the wrath of Nan Flanagan if I balked and things didn't go well. The jury had all seen photos of the murder scene, of murdered me, in my beautiful cream linen suit. Today I had been carefully styled wearing a pale peach linen coatdress, with modest jewelry (not that I ever wore extravagant jewelry) and with my hair up in a French twist. The cut of the dress was slightly different from that of the suit, but the very pale peach and my hairstyle echoed my appearance the night of my murder. It was all carefully orchestrated. It had left a bad taste in my mouth when I'd had that discussion with Nan's people. I'd been styled from head to French manicured fingers and toes by them. At least it was more the style of what I wanted to wear but the deliberate echo of my appearance that night was unsettling. I so seldom wore really light colors now. Pam had shuddered when she saw how I looked before we left the compound.

Judge Edwin Plunkett looked down from his bench at me and soberly instructed me that if it was suspected that I was trying to glamour anyone in his Court that I could be held in contempt and could be jailed. Did I understand this, he asked? Yes, I responded, bristling and resisting the urge to offer up a snappy comment on assumptions that vampires were all hell bent on glamouring everyone. I was already feeling insulted and we hadn't even started yet.

"Your witness, Mr. Tannen," he said.

After greeting me, Mr. Tannen apologized to me, noting how hard this must be for me. He was really sincere in his apology, too, as if he truly understood about victims testifying against those who had harmed them. Looking me in the eye he asked me if I saw the man who had killed me in the courtroom.

"Yes, I do."

"Mrs. Northman could you point him out and tell me what he's wearing just to be clear who you mean?"

I pointed to Kindsley and after biting my lips just a bit said,

"He's in the dark brown suit, with the cream shirt," softly.

"No further questions, your Honor."

The judge glanced at the defense table.

"Your witness Mr. Kennedy."

The defense attorney rose and buttoned his suit jacket and walked over to me. He smiled softly and the smile faded slightly.

"Mrs. Northman, had you ever seen Mr. Kindsley before that night?"

"No, sir."

"Do you think that Mr. Kindsley intended to kill you?"

"Objection!" shouted Tannen, rising from his seat.

Kennedy turned to the judge and said,

"Your honor, Mr. Tannen has gone to great lengths to convince this jury that Mrs. Northman is or was some sort of telepath. So if she was, then I guess she'd really know what was on Mr. Kindsley's mind, so to speak."

The judge looked over at me, brow furrowed a bit then nodded to Kennedy.

"I'll allow it. Mrs. Northman?"

"I don't know. I wasn't listening for his thoughts. I didn't know he was coming. I was chatting with my friend about going to get tea and buying a birthday present for my goddaughter. I'm not psychic. I didn't know I was in imminent danger. A lot of the time I would just tune out in crowds. I wasn't trying to listen to people around me. Only to my friend."

"So you don't know if Mr. Kindsley intended to kill you then? He could have just intended to frighten you and perhaps things went wrong, correct?"

"All I know is that he _did_ kill me."

"And you didn't catch any of his thoughts as he stabbed you or after?"

I was aghast. I'd been kind of busy dying. Eric had told me that Pam said that his name was the only word I spoke.

"Objection! Your honor, please… This is just badgering the victim of a heinous crime."

"Sustained. Mr. Kennedy do you have anything further?"

"Yes. Mrs. Northman, do you feel as if you are still alive? You walk among us. You remain with your family and friends. You still work. You evidently still travel quite a bit if I understand it correctly. Do you still feel as if you're alive?"

"Objection, your Honor! Relevance? We have a signed death certificate and we can all see from her pallor that she's dead. Is the defense's intention to make the victim feel worse or get a toe-hold on an absurd appeal, in case of conviction?"

The judge paused for a moment then said,

"There have been a number of recent appeals dealing with vampires turning humans on which the Supreme Court of Louisiana has yet to rule. The 'state of being' of a vampire's existence, while not life, is definitely more than just uncomplicated death. I realize that a vampire was not the agent of her death. However she was fortuitously spared final death and therefore, I'll allow the question, Mr. Kennedy. But I caution the jury to remember that Mr. Kindsley is, in fact, charged with Mrs. Northman's murder, not assault with a deadly weapon and that we do have ample evidence that she died."

Kennedy nodded.

"Mrs. Northman, do you feel as if you are still alive?"

I paused for a moment before answering. I'd never really thought about it in such blunt terms. Like in some potentially legal sense that impacted me.

"No. No I do not," I said firmly.

Kennedy seemed surprised by the answer and then I could see he was determined to prove me wrong.

"Well, if not, why not?"

"Because I don't even have half my 'life', especially at this time of year when the nights are so short. I don't have the daytime, and I can't really do or enjoy many of the things that I did enjoy and do when I was alive. It has affected all areas of my existence, from my work, to my charity work, to my family and friends. I don't associate feeling alive with worrying that my niece and nephew are going to shrink from my touch because I'm so cold, or from not being able to see my goddaughter's garden she's so proud of, in the daylight, rather than only in photos. And I don't associate it with raging hunger and being worried all the time that I'll haul off and bite someone I love. I don't feel one bit alive. I feel dead and have to fight feeling horrible that I am dead. He took something from me and it was more than just my life. He took my freedom."

He was almost sorry he'd asked the question. But he pressed on bravely.

"But surely Mrs. Northman, you enjoy many of the same things you did when you were alive, correct? The quality of your life is not changed to the extent that it is for someone who really died."

"Objection! Your Honor in addition to leading the witness, Mr. Kennedy is asking her to draw conclusions based on a supposition contrary to fact! Mrs. Northman _is_ dead and she's clearly stated she feels it and that she's sorry she is. What more does the Court need than that information?"

The judge reflected for just a moment then said,

"Sustained. Are we done Mr. Kennedy?"

I looked at Kennedy and he wanted to ask more but finally decided against it.

"I'm done your honor."

"Then Mrs. Northman, you are dismissed. We are adjourned until tomorrow morning at 9:45 am, at which time we will commence with closing arguments."

He banged his gavel and rose to leave, and we all rose with him as the Baliff called out, "All rise."

I walked past the jury box, past attorneys murmuring, past William Martin Kindsley and his family, who all looked at me as if I was the devil's spawn, and past the AVL lady who pressed forward to talk to me looking none to pleased that I reported I felt horrible about being dead. I walked right to Andor, who put his arm around me and then walked slightly behind me until we got to the doors out to the hall, when he shifted to being in front of me, pushing open the doors and blocking an easy view or shot by the media standing just beyond the ropes. The assistant State Attorney brushed past and then quickly led the four of us to another area toward the back of the court house. We went out the back door and, after Stefan hugged Pam to him, we flew back to where we had parked our car and drove home.

When we rose the next evening, we found out that following brief closing arguments, the jury had deliberated less than an hour that morning to convict Kindsley of first degree murder. The state had offered more than fifteen witnesses and he had admitted to the police that he'd followed us from the French Quarter compound and taken the murder weapon into the City Council meeting. They had installed all manner of new weapons detectors in City Hall as a result of my murder.

A little less than two weeks later the penalty phase of the trial took place. Ironically, it was on my 43rd birthday, July 1. Mr. Tannen, the State's Attorney, was rather stunned by my testimony. I guess he realized a bit late that he'd made a mistake never asking me what I'd say to the judge and jury.

"I'm sorry, I… Your Honor, may I confer with Mrs. Northman sidebar?"

Judge Plunkett chuckled at Mr. Tannen's rather obvious dismay.

"Briefly, Mr. Tannen. It appears that you have lost your momentum."

Tannen leaned forward and said in a low whisper,

"Are you _kidding_ me?"

"No, I'm not. And I won't say differently," I whispered back.

The judge looked rather amused.

"Mr. Tannen, if you could please stop badgering your own witness, I would appreciate being able to continue. It's late and I'm sure we'd all like to go home." He nodded toward me.

Tannen stepped back and looked at me, shaking his head slightly.

"So, Mrs. Northman, again, your feelings about the sentence that Mr. Kindsley deserves are…?"

I swallowed and then said,

"Like I said, I just cannot advocate for his death. _I_ already died and I don't for a minute think that _his_ death can give me back anything that I lost when he killed me. It's not going to give me peace of mind, it's not going to make me feel one bit better and it's certainly not going to give me back the freedom I've lost. It's not even going to help my family feel any better about what's happened to me. It's just going to give his supporters a martyr for the cause and cost this state a fortune during all the appeals. So I don't need or want him to die. If I have to go on with a loss of my freedom as it was, then his losing his freedom for as long as he's alive will be more than enough for me. That's all that I wanted to say."

Tannen looked over at the defense table and nodded curtly, with a grim look on his face.

Tommy Kennedy, Kindsley's defense attorney rose and buttoned his suit jacket then walked toward me.

"Good evening Mrs. Northman. So, you're telling me that you're perfectly at ease with the idea that Mr. Kindsley could spend life, without parole, in jail, correct?"

"I don't know that I'd choose those words, but yes, fine by me if he isn't sentenced to death. Fine."

"And you or your kind wouldn't have any plans to try to go and turn him, now would you? As in, for revenge, so you could go after him and punish him in your world?"

My jaw dropped.

"You have _got_ to be kidding me," I said.

"Mrs. Northman, you must answer the question as asked," said the judge.

I turned back to Kennedy.

"No, no plans. The very last thing that I can envision being fair is handing Mr. Kindsley immortality, more power, and the responsibility to use it safely, when he couldn't even be responsible with a human mind full of hateful thoughts and a knife, okay? That would _not_ be a good plan, Mr. Kennedy. The very last thing that this state or the American Vampire League needs is to have a man who goes around killing people made a vampire. I mean really, do you think we're _stupid_? What do you not understand about the word mainstream? If he goes even wronger than he is already it would be horrible PR for vampires. It's hard enough to be on good behavior when you're a new vampire, let alone when you already have issues like a history of murdering people on top of it. Life in prison? Fine by me."

Kennedy looked at me and in spite of the fact that he represented the convicted killer, his thoughts were that he actually admired my moxie in the face of so much pressure from all sides. He nodded to me with a slight smile.

"Thank you, Mrs. Northman. I thank you for your candor. No further questions, your Honor."

"Then Mrs. Northman, the Court thanks you for your testimony on this matter and I know I speak for more than just myself when I say that I am sorry for the losses that you have had at Mr. Kindsley's hands. Your words both tonight and two weeks ago have given this Court much to think about. Thank you."

I looked over at the AVL group and they looked so thoroughly delighted they could hardly even sit still and they were all vampires who were therefore _supposed_ to be still and unmoved. Kindsley's family gazed at me as I walked by, their puzzled eyes following me. As I passed, people who were speaking hushed and just looked at me. Evidently I had surprised everyone with my statement about not wanting him executed.

Andor kept his arm around me, as we walked out of the courtroom. He was silent for much of the drive back to the compound. As we got closer to the Quarter, he said,

"I simply do not know how you can be so forgiving."

"I'm not forgiving anyone. I'm just not demanding anyone's death, you know? Consider it the ultimate in mainstreaming. A vampire who doesn't demand retribution in the form of death for a death. It's just not my nature, Andor. Enough people have already died because of all this hatred. Someone's got to stop hating people somewhere so let's start here."

Once I was back upstairs, Eric found me reading on my daybed, Rosie in my lap. He sat down and put his arm around me. He'd planned shorter work nights on the nights I'd testified so that he could just sit with me afterwards and we planned to celebrate my birthday the following night since tonight was already colored by having to go to Court.

"So you stuck with your plan, then?"

"MmmHmmm," I said softly.

Eric shook his head and leaned over and kissed me. He sat there tangling my hair at the based of my head in his fingers, silent.

"I'm sure Nan was delighted, right?" I asked.

"I don't give a damn about what Nan thinks," he said almost wearily. "But yes, they are quite pleased with you."

I snickered.

"It's in our interest to care. Even if we don't like it that we do or have to. Right?"

He frowned and said,

"I want them all, the AVL and the hatemongers, to just leave us alone. I have no hopes that either will, however."

I snuggled against him with a sigh. After a few minutes, Eric rose and retrieved his book from the bedroom. We sat nestled against each other reading, like an old married couple, until closer to dawn. He laughed at the fact that I was rereading _Pride and Prejudice_ for about the twentieth time and that I called it comfort food. He was reading the Hawthorne novella _Rappaccini's Daughter._ I'd read it the previous week after Stefan had recommended it as highly readable Hawthorne, to annoy Pam. Eric had never read it before and seemed melancholy as he got to the heart of the story. Ironic allusions to your life being poisoned by those you love were not exactly lost on either of us.

I had to testify a week later before a federal grand jury on the issue of hate crimes against supernatural beings. In spite of the fact that the threats and general sense of menace surrounding me had died down a fair amount, Andor told Eric that he'd go with me again instead of sending Cadel with me. I felt oddly quite comforted by his presence. We'd always been like oil and water but now I felt somehow like he'd forgiven me by his wanting to keep me safe. People really drew back when he walked with me into the Federal Courthouse. Andor was a truly imposing presence. I testified and hoped that finally things would return to a quieter and more normal pace in my life.

Several days later, the District Court sentenced Kindsley to life in prison without parole. However, after less than a month in his maximum security prison, he was stabbed to death by another prisoner who had made a shank knife from a piece of his bed frame. They had argued over equipment in the exercise room at the time. But it was revealed that he'd also made some sort of slur about the other prisoner's family. The other prisoner was the second son of Weres. It was so ironic that Kindsley was stabbed to death. Clearly his conviction of my murder had done nothing to improve his prejudice against the supernatural. In the end, it cost him his life.

I felt genuinely sorry for both men's families.


	6. Chapter 6

**VI.**

**September, 2021**

"Why am I getting the feeling you aren't telling me what you really think? You're being incredibly evasive."

"I'll call you back from the car."

"Are you serious Sasha? It's so bad you won't talk candidly to me from home? Wow."

"I just… I was on my way out. I'll call you and discuss it further from the car, Ahmed."

"Fine. I'll wait for your call."

After eluding Cadel, which was certainly a challenge, I exited the garage in my Audi and called Ahmed back.

What to say on the subject of being turned?

"I think you need to really think about this very carefully, Ahmed. I think you have an idealized and even a romanticized view. _Why_ do you want to be turned? And what do you really know about Nicu? What is his history? Who is his sire? Is he or she still living? What are they like and who do _they_ belong to? What would you be buying into? Who are you expected to show allegiance to? And what are you going to do if once you are no longer a meal, his interest wanes? Would you still be happy striking out on your own again? How will it affect your work? Your family? Your ability to fit into your culture? Your ability even to lead your life as you presently do in terms of values, interests, relationships with others beyond just your loved one?" I paused and heard silence on the other end of the line. "Ahmed?"

I heard him swallow hard.

"Look, I'm almost forty-two. If I'm going to do it, I should do it now, before I age even more. Frankly, I wish I'd done it a decade ago, I guess. I…"

"Think about this carefully, Ahmed. It's for eternity unless a stake finds you or you choose to meet the sun. Who are you with? What do you _really_ know about Nicu? What do you know about his sire? These are people who will, for better or worse, _own you._"

"But Eric doesn't treat you like that? Or Pam."

"I've been lucky in my associations. Basically, I've been incredibly lucky in who I've loved. But, if they go down, I go down with them, by association. It's a feudal society, Ahmed. You wanted to get _out_ of what you called a feudal society, right? Well, my fortunes and my existence are tied to Eric's, and that's fine because I wouldn't want to be here without him, but you should think about what that would mean if I wasn't with him, or if I was placed in a position of being used against him, like if I got taken away from him and used as a bargaining chip or something. It's a very 'us or them' society. And I'm really lucky because neither Eric nor Pam are much into the subservience thing. Loyalty, yes. Total subservience, no. Let me assure you that they're the _exception_."

I paused, not even believing I was having this conversation. I continued,

"Basically, what I'm saying is there are huge caveats that you're clearly not looking at. I had no choice in what happened to me. _But you do_. I'm telling you the truth that no vampire is going to tell you because it's too painful for them to deal with. You need to think about every aspect of your daily life and think about whether you want to give it up or if you won't have to, how it will change. Because everything, and I do mean _everything_, will change, Ahmed. You'll change and people's reactions to you will change, even if they're subtle about it. And you also need to think about what you have that could broker your freedom if something happened to put it at risk. Are you still there? Are you still listening?"

"Yes, I'm listening."

"Good. So what you could hold over other people to broker your freedom from being held subservient or something is absolutely vital, especially to your situation. What's the wild card you could play or the carte blanche that you would have or your 'get out of jail for free' card. In case the AVL or someone who has something against your family goes all bat shit on the fact that they have a genuine Saudi royal as a vampire, and therefore in their… supposed debt. Or whatever. I'm really not kidding here. You need to think about this in political terms, Ahmed, not some romanticized view of immortality and always looking cool and contained and never aging. Vampires are extremely political. You should know that already, right? As far as the AVL is concerned, which is what you'll be dealing with because you became a US citizen, you're going to be Prince Ahmed, their Saudi royal vampire, okay? I kid you not. They miss not a single opportunity to exploit people to promote their agenda. Look at this month's _Vanity Fair. _I am now the AVL poster child. Poor little Sookie, the Louisiana vampire king's wife got murdered and we saved her. Look at what a sweet Southern lady vampire she is now. So totally mainstream she doesn't even want her murderer fried. So liberal, so totally social justice-oriented and so very tolerant. So _Christian_ in her turning the other cheek, when I haven't set foot in a church in years, ever since they told me my husband was damned for all eternity. I mean it turns my stomach the stuff that they will use and spin for their own agenda. And the real politics of your situation, considering the issues with the US and Saudi Arabia right now over Syria and Iran? Frankly, I don't even want to imagine what the AVL and your family are going to say if you go and get yourself turned by some Romanian guy that we don't even know all that much about and then the AVL decides you are the perfect propaganda machine to use in the media, exploiting your background, okay? Saudi prince and vampire hero, former FBI guy, freedom, justice and vampires for the American way. Think politics and being a propaganda tool and not emotions, Ahmed."

"So you really miss being alive then? Is that the upshot?"

"Ahmed, there are few things that I _don't_ miss about being alive. But far beyond my whining about my personal circumstance, there is your knowing _your_ circumstance if you were turned by him. What do you expect from him? What is reasonable to expect? What do you expect the AVL will want from _you_ as one of their vampires in the USA. Because it's kind of a mandatory membership. You don't have a clue what they have the right to do to you, in the eyes of about 99% of everybody else, to enforce their policies. And what if you don't like it? Being a vampire, I mean. What then? You could be staked the day you rise or live ten thousand years. What are you looking for? What will you find? What is it that makes your life _yours_? Will you still have that if you are turned? Will you still be _allowed_ to have that? And are you willing to give up the next few years of your life to getting things under control, so that you still reflect your present ethos as opposed to being a bloodthirsty and sex-crazed predator? Because I can honestly tell you, it takes every ounce of mental power and self-control in the beginning to remember who you are and what you believe in when everything flooding your mind and your body is telling you to be a different way. It's frightening and demoralizing and it's a battle not to let some side of the new you, that doesn't _feel_ like you at all, take over _all_ of you, and all of your mind. Think Stockholm Syndrome, okay? Except your captor is in your head and you can't ever turn it off completely. Your main focus has to be on retaining yourself, your morals, your ideals, or maybe it could take you literally centuries to get it back. Sure, sometimes you feel like you have to indulge that side. Just a bit. But how long a break from everything that makes you _you_ can you take and still _be _you? And who are you trusting to indulge yourself with? Who _supports_ your still being you while you play at being a baby vampire? How much do you really trust that the person who can control you, or control things about your fate, really wants you to still _be_ you, even?"

"Point taken. Which is how we come to my real question." He paused for several seconds then said, "Would _you_ do it?"

"You mean if I were you? No way! It will make a total and probably final mess of things with your family. Like the nail in the coffin, if you excuse the black humor. I'm not sure even Abby could take it, Ahmed. I mean really, it _is _possible to ask too much of people who love you. And, most of all, I think the risks are too great for a person used to living with the degree of freedom that you have. You really have no idea. If it chafes me to be shackled to the night, shackled to the idea of so many feudalistic strictures, I think it would make you utterly miserable in the end, or it will make you into a totally different person. And I _like_ the person you are Ahmed. I _love_ the person you are. You can't lose that."

He was silent for a moment, then said,

"You misunderstood me. Would _you_ turn me, Sasha? It would be safer than Nicu doing it. I really trust you."

As soon as the words hit my ears I gasped. I tried to gather my wits about me before replying.

"Ahmed, I… I couldn't. I just couldn't do that. First, it's just… too big a responsibility to ask of me. But more importantly, I just don't think it's the right thing for you to do at all. So I couldn't in good conscience do that Ahmed. I don't think you _should _do it. I don't think it will make you happy. I think, in fact, that it will make you unhappy. Frankly, I can't foresee a circumstance in which I'd ever turn anyone. I've never even _bitten_ anyone. Alive, that is. I just… I couldn't do that."

He was silent on the line for a moment.

"Then what about Eric?"

I sank my forehead into my hands. I'd been parked in front of the office building for several minutes just talking with him. It was really almost too much to absorb.

I was startled by a sharp rap on the glass. I looked up to see Cadel, looking genuinely mad, eyes glowing, fangs bared.

"I've got to go. Please think about everything I said. There's nothing wrong with growing old, Ahmed. Please… think about it. Give my love to Abby and Noor. Pet Rocco for me. I hope he improves on the new diet. I'll call you before you and Alla leave on Friday."

"Sasha, hang on…"

"I can't. I really have to go. Love you and talk to you soon."

I hung up and let the window roll down on a positively snarling Cadel.

"Do you mind telling me what the bloody fuck you're about? Exactly what do you think you're doing leaving without me? Do you think I'm a bleeding idiot? Like I don't watch my cameras? Like I don't notice your car leaving the garage? And who the bloody hell are you talking to? Did I hear Snotty Uppercrust on the handsfree? Something top-secret going on? Something that I can't know about? Something that I can't be trusted to keep quiet? _Something worth risking your bloody fucking life for?! _Learned a lot from the attack on Amelia, have you? Bloody hell! You know, I've half a mind to tell Eric and Andor you pulled this little stunt. I've half a mind to tell _Pamela._"

"Are you done being mad yet? I need to roll up the window and get out. You need to move away from the door."

He scowled at me as I rolled up the window. He yanked open the car door as soon as I was done.

"You've never even an ounce of remorse for the stuff you pull, do you? Get out of the bleeding car! I'm going to be on you like a rash for the rest of the evening."

I got out of the car giving him a wide berth. He slammed the door shut and grabbed the keys out of my hand. Then he pointed at me and shouted,

"You are pissing me off _royally. _Just plain selfish and irresponsible is what you are at times. If I catch you leaving that building again without me, so help me I'm going to tell Eric what you're about. If you think, after seeing what happened with Amelia, that I'm going to _pla_y at keeping you safe, you're wrong. This isn't a game, Sookie. Being a vampire just makes you a more challenging target, that's all. It's my job and your life and you had better snap to attention on both points."

I snorted.

"My _life_, really? I could argue that point, but whatever. Yeah. Okay. I apologize for upsetting you. I was talking to Ahmed and um… I got distracted by the conversation."

"You know, as much as I sympathize about the lack of choice you've had in the situation, I'm really bloody tired of the attitude you have. How about making the best of things now that the decision _was _made? At least from the standpoint of honoring those who care about you, a better effort might be appreciated. I might not agree with what was done, but it _was_ done and I'd really like to think that you're not going to spend a few decades or centuries paying all of us back for the fact that Eric and Pam wanted to keep you by putting yourself in harm's way. Because this," he jabbed a finger toward the car, "was fucking irresponsible in the face of all the fucking hate mail and threats that have been directed your way. Am I making myself clear, chwaer? Are you taking in the full measure of the words? You're _not_ doing it again!"

He was still shouting and was so very upset.

"Geez, Cadel, I'm sorry, okay? Really."

"And you weren't distracted on the phone at all. You weren't even _on _the bloody phone when you walked out to the car and got in and drove out of the garage without a bodyguard. Don't think you can be sly with me because you can't. What is going on with the Snotty Uppercrust that requires such secrecy?"

"I thought you liked him now?"

Cadel suddenly pushed me back against the car and whirled around at the sound of someone coming out of the office building, blocking the path to me.

"Whoa!" said Jamie, raising his hands in surrender mode. "It's just me. Amelia's still upstairs working. What's the shouting about? I could hear you all the way upstairs, Cadel."

I stepped around from behind Cadel.

"Nothing. Everything's fine, Jamie. How are you this evening? Is Jasper getting over the flu?" I took Cadel's arm and we walked toward the building.

Amelia looked up when I walked by her office.

"Everything okay? Jamie said that you and Cadel were arguing. He could hear you all the way up here."

I turned back to look at Jamie and Cadel talking in the reception area. Jamie looked over at me and started shaking his head. Great. Just great. Cadel was clearly telling him about he whole business. At least most of the time when he watched me now Jamie was watching me while I was totally dead, as in asleep, and I couldn't get myself into trouble. He glanced back over at me and gave me his classic "WTF" gesture. I sighed heavily. Really, given the tenor of some of the mail directed my way since the trial and Kindsley's conviction and subsequent death in prison, Cadel definitely had a point being upset.

"Yeah. I was being a stupid jerk and, not surprisingly, Cadel got mad about it, that's all. How are you feeling? How was your physical therapy appointment this afternoon?"

I was only started to feel less stressed talking to her about her recovery. I'd written her a long letter telling her how badly I felt about what had happened to her. I didn't think I could keep it together to talk to her about it. She'd read it but her only comment was that we'd 'both suffered'. And everything about her manner with me after that was just as it was, as it had always been. Even if I blamed myself for her having become a target of these hate groups, she didn't blame me. She said we were all targets because we were different.

"I'm okay. The PT says the range of motion on my leg is almost back to what it should be. My hip still hurts like hell when he's working on it but it's fine by the morning. I was even able to pick up Bronnie and carry her a bit this afternoon before I went. But I think she was making herself light or something." She smiled. "She's looking forward to your taking her to the movie tomorrow night. She feels very grown up to see a PG movie at night with her aunties."

Amelia and Bert were going out on a much needed date. After how serious and dark the past few months had been, Pam and I were happy to offer to watch Bronwyn overnight so that they could enjoy an evening out together. Bert was coming to pick up Bronnie right around dawn.

"It should be fun. Pam is looking forward to it. Where are you and Bert going to dinner?"

She looked up and smiled.

"Breakfast. Thai."

At first I tried to remember where a restaurant by that name was in New Orleans. Then I got it and laughed.

"They have this fish dish he likes in Koh Samui. It's very spicy. But I'll just be having breakfast. Fruit, like mangoes and pomelos and stuff like that."

"I have to say that I think that's pretty cool."

"Actually, it's really warm there," she said with a chuckle and a wink. "But I get to wear a sarong and we're eating on the beach."

I rolled my eyes.

"Ugh! on the joke but yum on spicy fish. Except… not for me anymore," I said with a sigh and then gestured that I was headed back to work.

I sat down and looked around my office and at the pile of work on my desk with another sigh. I was already mentally exhausted and I hadn't even started working for the night. It had been a long summer. The terrible attack on Amelia, the trial, the grand jury testimony, package-bomb scares at the office, the usual (final) death threat letters. I was really hoping it would all quiet down again in a year or two. As I looked through invoices for equipment, I thought about Ahmed. I was so worried about him. But there was little I could do about his choices and worrying wasn't going to change a thing.

Cadel came in, dropped his jacket on my couch, turned on a bank of computers on a long table I had set up for him, and after checking that everything was running, sat down on the couch and quite deliberately propped up his feet on my rosewood coffee table with a glare. He took out his phone and started scrolling through messages or something, ignoring me. So I ignored him right back. He was so careful that I doubted he'd scratch my table with his shoes, anyway.

I sat feeling distracted and not ready to work just yet. Instead, I reflected on the irony of who usually got turned. Generally, only fairly good-looking people were turned. Since the revelation, there had been more of a trend to turn really bright or somehow gifted people, irrespective of their appearance. But really, you had to wonder why someone like Salome got turned and not a seer like Cassandra. Vampires probably would have believed her. In fact, if I read my vampire history correctly they did, just like they believed the Pythia, or Pythoness. Or why turn Ocella and not someone like Socrates or Aristotle? Or in more modern times, someone like Shakespeare or Mozart? Why turn _me_ for instance, if you could instead have a mind like Ahmed's with his encyclopedic knowledge, his gift for many languages, his all-around superior education? It seemed so unfair to me. And even if he did get turned, the system itself was unfair, because to think that someone with a mind like Ahmed's could be stuck kowtowing to a Nan Flanagan or some sire who could end up treating him like he was a servant or worse? I shivered at the mere thought. I really didn't want to imagine it. Being a vampire could literally mean being practically enslaved. If not to a sire, even just to your own nature. It could mean a total loss of yourself if you let it as far as I was concerned. I looked at the vampires I knew and loved and wondered how similar they were to their human selves. I'd never want Ahmed to lose his essential nature. And I never wanted to see him exploited or enslaved by anyone, which was what I was all too sure could happen if he got turned by anyone. Eric might be his best option but I didn't think he should be turned at all if Nan Flanagan was going to have the right to tell him what to do.

Deciding I was getting nowhere brooding, I forced myself to get to work on the serious business at hand on my desk. Jamie popped in a while later to give me photos from a party he and Peggy had had for their youngest son's birthday.

"You know, you really ought to give the old man a break," he said, nodding his head in Cadel's direction. "If you don't, the next time we go out of town he's going to tell me I have to nail your coffin shut or something."

I frowned.

"That isn't funny and I wasn't trying to give Cadel a hard time. I apologized and the subject is over and done. It was just a bad decision, Jamie."

"It is always is with you, my friend. It always is. However, stronger than I am now or not, you pull stuff like that with me and I'll be explaining to Eric why I have to quit."

I rolled my eyes.

"Geez, can we quit it with the double-team chastisement? I didn't do anything to _you_ Jamie and I hardly think I'm going to be getting in trouble while I'm dead as a rock during the daytime, okay? This picture of Jasper is really cute, by the way. How are Ben and Jon?"

"I'd put nothing past you, frankly. Peggy said thanks again for the gift for Jas. He really likes it. Ben and Jon are fine. You know, we both wish you'd come over more. Peggy kind of doesn't understand the distance, Sookie."

"I told you that you could tell her exactly what I said. It scares me. Three kids, two Weres and a perpetually hungry vampire. Not a plan."

"You can always come with Cadel, right? I'll stock up on True Blood. And you're being ridiculous if you think I think you're going to be biting my kids, Sookie."

"You know, it is absolutely amazing to me that everyone is so confident that I have this incredible self-control over my hunger and absolutely no judgment over other major areas of my life. Amazing…"

Jamie chuckled.

"I don't know about that... I've known you for years and it makes complete sense to me."

"Well if Cadel ever speaks to me again, I'll let you know about coming over to visit."

Jamie pointed that he was heading back down the hall to Amelia's office, after glancing at the sullen, silent and ignoring me Cadel. In the doorway he pointed to Cadel behind his back and made a gesture like smoothing things out with his hands.

A while later, over an hour after Jamie and Amelia had left, Cadel still sat, now playing games on some Sony portable thing, in stony silence. I'd glanced over at him several times. He was still so upset with me. It was like you could see the anger still streaming off him. Finally I said,

"Cadel, I'm really sorry if I upset you, okay? I just needed to be able to talk to Ahmed. I was trying to talk him out of something. I needed to be alone. I was being stupid… It was bad judgment. I should have told you and had you follow me in another car."

He didn't respond. Diffidently, I flashed into his thoughts, trying not to be too intrusive and even so, feeling guilty as I did so. His thoughts, though he'd obviously heard me apologize, were both angry and poignant. He had so few people that he'd _ever _felt comfortable talking to in a 'bare your soul' sense. His sister, Stefan, me. He didn't want to lose anyone he was so emotionally attached to ever again. It was why he got upset if anything threatened me or Stefan. He was really angry that I didn't seem to get the idea that it would be more than just messing up on a job for Eric if something happened to me when he was supposed to be watching me. He was even hurt that I didn't seem to understand that. He didn't think in grand terms, like loving his friends, but it was obvious to me. Suddenly, I felt like a total jerk.

Just getting that quick flash into his mind, for the first time it really struck me, what it meant that Cadel would have supported _not_ letting me rise a vampire. How unselfish of him that was. Given that it meant he would lose one of the only two people that he apparently talked to about personal things, I couldn't even begin to imagine how he would have felt had I been gone for good. And he told me things he didn't even tell Stefan. Though I was sure there were probably many things he'd tell Stefan that he'd never tell me. I still couldn't even figure out why he talked to me so easily. Surely he'd known other people that had reminded him somehow of Angharad? In any case, what I could clearly see was that even if he might have chosen to honor my wishes about being turned, just like Eric and Pam, Cadel was very upset at the idea that I was presently so ambivalent about being here as a vampire that I was reckless in his eyes. I tried to cover up my ambivalence but clearly I wasn't burying it deep enough. The fact was that I'd basically agreed to just keep going as a vampire and my present carelessness really drove him around the bend. He loved me enough to tell me off, I thought to myself. Without further hesitation, I said,

"I won't do it again, Cadel. I won't. I promise. I'm really sorry."

That finally seemed to hit the mark for making amends.

"Yeah, you better be," he sneered, jabbing his thumb at his game unit. "Next time I'm telling Eric. I'm not joking. I don't even want to think of what he'd do to me if I let you slip away and you were killed for good. I'm thinking he'd be rather chagrined."

"Don't worry then. If I'm not with Eric, I'm with Pam or you or Bert, okay?" I said returning to the work on my desk.

"Let me remind you that you were with Pamela when you died. Just bear that in mind."

I gasped and turned back to him.

"Cadel, it wasn't her fault!"

"Yeah, it was. She wasn't vigilant. She's had it all cush and doesn't know how to _really_ be vigilant. Other than being turned by her all too indulgent sire, what's happened to her lately? Sure she can fight when she's pushed, but vigilant? I'm just telling you that you need to be watchful yourself if you're with her. Mind, if you get in a spot, Pamela's far stronger than you. I saw her when Eric took Louisiana and she can be handsomely thorough. But you're more vigilant than she is by nature, and you've been trained to really fight and she's not been, though she's quite vicious if pushed. You'd best bear the whole situation in mind when you're off together, with the wee one for instance. Of course, that's assuming you don't dump Pamela, as well. Wouldn't want to imagine having to have the wee thing help defend you or herself, though. Perhaps you ought to have backup closer to your own size. Since her torching people seems to disturb you."

"Cadel, I didn't dump you. Geez, I apologized already, okay? Can you drop the attitude?"

"I will when you do, love. And not a minute sooner. Bloody level! 125 levels, indeed. You get to 115 and the damn thing barely lets you time to shoot! It's bad when even I think it's fast."

"I'm not giving you attitude."

"You've had attitude for months. And you ought to think about whom you're paying back at this point. Because it's the wrong party. Ha! 116…"

I didn't reply. Maybe he was right, but I didn't know how to fix my problem other than having my memories of my entire human life erased or something.

After a minute or two of trying to refocus my thoughts, I resumed my work, tallying estimates on an installation of equipment in Iowa and making an invoice for a resort for supernaturals in Wyoming. I sighed. Really, if I was honest, I wasn't thrilled with the whole business these days. I wasn't enjoying not being able to work during the day, and the limit on the number of hours I could practically work was incredibly frustrating. Plus there was the worry that Amelia was on her own if I wasn't working. I worried about Amelia, even if she acted as if she didn't blame me for what had happened to her. I blamed myself. I'd put her in harm's way with my associations and her association with me. Sometimes I wondered if we shouldn't call it a day on the business. Our installations were in 31 states at this point. How much more work could we do? Often we were just doing upgrades, as it was.

Every once in a while, Cadel would get up and check the security cameras' feed from back in the compound to make sure he was getting a real time view. The security system that Cadel had designed was really incredible. Most of us could barely even understand some of what Cadel had talked about doing with the surveillance and plugging it into our heavily secured network for the compound. I'd barely understood his latest diesign plans and he was using _my_ equipment! He could now monitor what was going on from anywhere, and not just what was going on at the compound but even at the estate. He could even monitor it from his phone. I'd joked with Stefan, who now knew a fair bit about Maggie, that for a Welsh pickpocket who didn't even know how to read until about 1800, Cadel could leave us in the dust on a number of subjects. He might not have Ahmed's gift for languages but he certainly had the same kind of encyclopedic and logical mind. It was just that it was a visual encyclopedia instead of a language-based one.

About an hour later, Cadel let out a curse.

"Cachi…"

"What?" I asked, surprised to hear Cadel cursing just while reading a message on his phone and not at his game. "Is everything okay at home?"

"Fine. We need to go."

I glanced at the clock. It was now 2:45 am.

"Why? I still have a bit more I can do."

"Okay, don't get all upset, but Stefan says that you're needed with Hunter."

"What?"

"_By_ Hunter. Come on, then. Put the move on."

"Cadel, you better tell me what's going on."

"He just got a bit of a poke, that's all. They were fencing. Probably too late for him to be up practicing and he was tired." He looked at my widened eyes and said, "Settle down, he'll be fine."

"A bit of a poke? You mean stabbed? If it's just a 'bit', why do I have to go home?"

"He says that you need to give Hunter blood. I reckon maybe it's a bit more than a bit."

I looked at him wide-eyed, dropped what I was doing and grabbed my purse and sailed out the door. Cadel managed to get all the lights off.

I hesitated as we exited the building. Should I drive? Fly? Cadel seemed to understand exactly what I was thinking.

"I'm sure we've time to take the _car_. It's not that dire or Stefan would have gotten Eric to give him blood. Come on. I'm driving, remember? You know you've got no worries about getting there quickly." He held up and jingled my keys, which he'd taken earlier. His eyes sparkled.

He ran three red lights and didn't stop at a flashing one. Sometimes I was so glad I was already dead when Cadel drove late at night.

When I got upstairs, Hunter was in our rooms with an icepack on his shoulder. I pulled it away from the shoulder, then pulled away a thick wad of gauze and gasped. He'd been stabbed almost clean through, just below the clavicle endpoint, from the looks of it. It had just missed the upper region of his lung.

Stefan, sitting there in simple workout clothes, hung his head and bit his lip.

"I'm quite sorry, Sookie," Stefan said contritely.

Hunter spoke right up.

"It was my fault, not his. I wasn't wearing my gear, and I got distracted."

I stared at him as he spoke. _Not wearing protective gear while fencing_?

"What is _wrong_ with you? No gear? Where is your judgment, Hunter?"

"I know, I know… It was irresponsible. It's just hot in there, even with the fans on, and I didn't want to get all suited up. I didn't think I'd get jabbed."

He had a peculiar look on his face. I leaned closer and really stared at him and then pushed into his mind a bit.

"Hunter Savoy! You're proud of yourself! How _dare_ you!"

I was distracted by a slight chortling sound behind me and turned to see Cadel's face go blank instantly as I looked his way. Stefan was looking away, trying not to smile.

"Oh! You damn _boys_! Look at you three!" I pushed at Hunter's arm. "A pack of idiots! And you two encouraging him!"

"Ow! You don't have to make it hurt more thanks. Geez, Aunt Sookie! Listen, I could have asked Stefan to give me blood or told Uncle Eric or something. You know, to cover it up. But I didn't. I'm owning up to it. I'm sorry, okay?"

I drew back the gauze again and shook my head. The wound was a neat V-shaped puncture. I looked at the back of the shoulder and bruising was already quite evident. It was a deep wound and it had really bled, too, if his shirt was any indication. Just dabbing my blood on it wasn't going to do much.

"What the heck was this?" I said pointing at the wound.

"Épée," Hunter murmured.

"We started with sabres but he wanted to practice with the épée," clarified Stefan. "It can go deeper because it's so stiff but it's probably a better wound than the wound he'd have had from a sabre."

I turned to Stefan and said in an acerbic tone,

"Thank you for that assessment, Stefan. That is just _so_ comforting. But you know, I've noticed that he's still alive, something that _you_ apparently forgot, if he wasn't wearing his jacket. What were you doing letting him fence without the jacket, Stefan? You're his Uncle, right? Isn't that what you guys call yourselves?" I said looking from Stefan to Cadel and back to Stefan. "Hunter's _other_ uncles. So where's your judgment, Stefan? You were the sole man in the family that I had hopes hadn't inherited the stupid boy gene. I swear you all are just infuriating. _Infuriating!_"

Hunter bit his lip and couldn't help but smile at Stefan. He chuckled as Stefan, who was started to look even more contrite, since he was getting a serious dressing-down, looked down at the floor for a moment and then met my eyes with his light blue ones.

"I'm genuinely sorry, Sookie. It _was_ poor judgment. I should have realized sooner that he was too tired. And it was wrong not to insist he suit up. We've been a bit too lax lately because he's improved so much."

I turned to Hunter pointing and said,

"You are _done_ fencing in my house, are we clear? _Done!"_

"Come on, Aunt Sookie! Don't overeact! Do you know what it's like to go to Fencing Club and blithely state that I get my lessons from a 300 year old vampire? I mean I'm fencing with a _vampire!_ It's like instant caché. And Stefan is… I mean he's incredible with a sword and a really good teacher. I've gotten so much better. You should want me to know how to defend myself, you know!"

"Hunter, you seem to be neglecting the fact that you weren't fencing with a vampire, you were getting _stabbed_ by one. Seems like there's not much to be proud of, frankly, no matter which way I look at it."

He still smiled merrily.

"Imagine if I was fencing with Eric? Yikes, right?" and then he burst out laughing. "Besides, if you really want me to be safe and learn to defend myself, you're going to have to let me get hurt. Would you really want me practicing fighting with people who really didn't care if they hurt me? Stefan really felt bad. He told Eric and Cadel right away before helping me in here. He took care of me. Would you want me getting hurt when I'm not even here at home? I don't think so. And you got hurt _all the time_ with Uri and Lev. Remember the time that Lev guy practically broke your cheekbone? How about the time he stabbed your thigh? Or the slash on your chest? I mean, this is just a little stab wound and it's really easily fixed."

I glared at him open mouthed and with my fangs slightly down. Of course, being near an open, bleeding wound was not helping the situation in the least. Cadel decided to go with redirecting the conversation.

"Actually, I think Stefan is better with a fencing weight sword than Eric is. Not to be quoted thanks, since I'm firmly attached to all my parts and am not as good with a sword as either of them. But Eric likes broadswords and such. I don't think he's much into the whole refined fencing thing. Every time I've seen him with a sword he's been hacking bits off people with great crashing blows. He doesn't care at all about elegant swordsmanship. The Vikings weren't like that. They're strictly "get the job done" types. Same with Andor. Andor doesn't fence. He bludgeons and guts. And forget the broadsword. You should see him with an axe or a mace. But Eric, with that big broadsword on his wall? I saw him wielding it one time in Germany in the 1700's. Really, you don't want to ever fight with that. It made me pretty firm in staying on his right side, if you take my meaning."

Hunter grinned.

"I'd never want to see Eric with _any_ sword if he was coming at me. Andor is probably too scary to even think about. But Stefan says that you're good with a sword, too. Right, Stef?"

Stefan smiled at Cadel and nodded.

"Yeah, I guess I'm okay with a sword," replied Cadel. "It's not like I had as much chance to practice or anything. But I had a really grand rapier once. Perfectly balanced. Of course, Andor broke it, defending some girl, who turned out to be more trouble than her weight in gold. We were in Scotland. Claimed he'd get me another one. I'm still waiting. Bloody bugger."

"Cadge you're quite good with a sword. And you can't be beat with a dagger," said Stefan approvingly. "You always count yourself short on the weapons. I don't know why. You're so fast that especially with a shorter weapon, you're quite impressive."

Cadel smiled and for the first time in the evening looked really happy. He sat down in one of the chairs next to Stefan.

"It's so incredible that you guys really got to fight with swords. Uncle Eric's told me all kinds of exciting stories…" said Hunter.

Wow, Hunter had really been so chastened by this whole experience, I thought to myself. Rolling my eyes, I stood up and went to the kitchen, shaking my head.

I took a paring knife from the drawer and slit my wrist and drained blood into a shot glass. I looked at the knife in my hand and suddenly my hand trembled. I looked at how the light played on the polished steel. My eyes traced the sharp edge of the blade and I enjoyed the sensation of my skin sealing, tingling as it did so. My thumb traced the smooth contour of the blade's handle. I was almost mesmerized by the blade in my hand.

"So he's alright then?" said Eric's voice softly from behind me. I had not even heard or felt him approach because I'd been so focused on the blade.

I left out a soft breath and then quickly rinsed the knife off with some running water, washed it with a soapy sponge, rinsed it again and then put the knife, its shiny blade pointing down, in the drainer. I turned slowly and looked up at him.

"Yes," I said, almost in a whisper.

I picked up the shot glass and started to carry it toward the dayroom, grinding my teeth slightly. I had been frighteningly close… and I still felt the urge so strongly. He'd come at just the right moment.

As I started to walk past him, Eric deftly took the blood-filled shot glass from my hand and, holding it away from us with a steady hand, pressed me into the wall and kissed me. I trembled and opened my mouth slightly. He pressed his index finger to my lips and then lowering his head to my neck, nuzzled his nose and lips against it. I leaned into his lips and he quickly parted them and sank his teeth into my neck. I felt an explosion of pleasure, and a great release of tension, of anger and frustration. I leaned back into the wall and inhaled the clean scent of shampoo lingering in his hair and the scent of my blood. He released me, brushed his tongue against my neck as the wounds sealed and then straightened up to look at me. With his free hand he stroked my cheek, then kissed me again gently. I pressed my forehead onto his chin and rubbed it there. We lingered for another moment and then he kissed my forehead and handed the shot glass back to me. Without a word we walked back out to the others.

"… And whenabouts am I getting this replacement sword, I ask you? Only a few centuries late now, right?" Cadel was saying to Andor.

"Cadel, you just won't let go of anything, will you?" said Andor, looking incredulous. "It was _centuries _ago! Get over it!"

"And I've still not seen my ten pounds, Andor. Do you know how much that is in modern dollars? It's about $1200. A handsome sum."

Markus, shook his head, started to say something and Andor reached out and smacked him lightly in the chest.

"_You_ are staying out of this business," he said, pointing at Markus as he spoke.

Markus raised his hands and shook his head, looking innocent. When Andor glanced over at Stefan and said something to him, Markus crossed his eyes at him. Andor reached out and grabbed Markus by the throat and turned back to look at him.

"What have I told you about doing that."

"You said not in _public_…" Markus managed to choke out. "This is family."

Andor traced his eyes around the room over each of us and then pulled Markus closer and glared down at him silently, his jaw thrust forward in a challenging expression.

"I apologize. I was in the wrong. It was very disrespectful. I should know better," recited Markus in a still choked voice.

It sounded like he was reading from a cue card. He looked almost sincere. Except for the slightly twitching corners of his mouth.

"Sometimes I think that I will make Sookie put you back as you were Markus. I miss those days. You were no trouble at all in comparison. I'll have no more disrespect from you, are we clear?"

Markus nodded. When Andor turned away, Markus glanced over at Cadel and smiled sticking out his tongue ever so slightly. Meanwhile Pam was examining Hunter's wound.

"I say we pour salt or lemon juice on it first to make sure he doesn't do it again," she said glancing up at me. "Stefan told you they weren't wearing masks either, right? Oh, look at that… A little detail they left out. Yes, and I caught them the other day fencing without the masks, too. But they'd 'never let him get injured' they said." She jabbed Hunter's shoulder.

"Ouch! Geez, Aunt Pam, it really does hurt, you know?"

"Good! I should hope so!" she said, poking him again for good measure.

Giving Stefan a dark look, I handed the shot glass to Hunter.

Stefan nodded his head looking at me.

"Never again. You don't even need to ask. Full gear. Every time."

"I'm totally _not_ asking, Stefan," I said.

"Agreed," said Pam, glaring at him.

He nodded soberly as Hunter drank the blood with an almost pained expression on his face. Afterwards, as he was leaving our rooms with Cadel, Markus and Stefan, I heard Hunter remark that he was really disappointed that now he wouldn't even have a scar. I felt like banging my head against the wall. I shook my head remembering some of the stupid stuff Jason used to do at the same age. I supposed that Hunter was doing better than that, I told myself. But not by much.

Pam and I sat drinking True Blood for a while, discussing what we were going to do with Bronwyn while Amelia and Bert were out on their 'date night'. Pam wanted the three of us to get our nails done, which I thought would probably delight Bronwyn, though it was going to be a very long time for her to hold her glamour to go to get her nails done, dinner and a movie. We finally agreed we see if we could do nails, a light and fast dinner for Bronnie and the movie.

After she left, I spent time feeling unsettled. Gradually, I began to realize that I felt Hunter, not any troubled emotions internal to myself. Since Mathilde was spelling my blood so that it wouldn't affect either of us, I'd never had the experience of feeling what my blood in someone else really felt like. It felt… awful. I felt as if uncomfortable in my own skin. But was that how he himself felt or how I felt feeling him? I couldn't even say.

Shortly before dawn, I lay in bed in Eric's arms and sighed as he played with my very mussed up hair. I kissed his chest and rubbed my cheek against him. In the past nine months, I had learned that even if it was theoretically impossible for a vampire to 'get tired', that a bigger, stronger and quite possibly equally ardent (was that really possible?) vampire certainly could get you… Okay, I was what I currently was _calling_ tired, though I was unlikely to admit that I was tired. Eric said the proper word was sated, though I didn't want to admit even that much.

But this was good. Quite good. My entire body tingled with pleasure. As it faded though, I once again felt some inner agitation that wasn't mine. Down the hall I heard Hunter stirring in his room, no doubt rising for his early class. He'd taken to sleeping at odd hours, often only three or four hours at a time late at night and in the afternoon.

"Eric, does my feeling Hunter mean I feel how he feels or how I feel about feeling him?"

"Both. Why?"

"When I think of him I feel like I am uncomfortable in my own skin. I can't explain it. It feels… bad."

He didn't say anything for a moment and then said,

"Perhaps you should finally talk to him. You can start with what you feel from him. You are feeling what I _see_. What would make him take risks like fencing without protection? What would make him reckless like that? Is it only the overconfidence of youth? You'll be able to tell since he's had your blood. If he lies or tries to cover it up, you'll know. Ignoring the situation doesn't seem to be working particularly well."

I stiffened at his implication and just nodded to him. I just couldn't talk further about that right now.

Instead, I told Eric about my conversation with Ahmed. He listened to my thoughts on why Ahmed's wish was a bad idea, including the being a Saudi prince part, thoughtfully, and then he made a suggestion about a simple way to intervene: glamour him into thinking about something else when he started thinking about wanted to be turned.

"I'm still hoping he'll come to his senses. Maybe you're right. I'll tell you, I've never thought that glamouring someone was a good idea on principle, but seriously, I'd think of it in this case. I'm just so worried about what would happen to him," I said. "Isn't it ironic though that really exceptional people don't get turned and that you have people like Salome, Mickey and Ocella who do? I mean, that's just messed up."

I paused to think about the idea of glamouring Ahmed. But I wouldn't even see him until close to Christmas. He and Alla were leaving for Pakistan and Afghanistan at the end of the week for ten days and then he'd be back to teaching. Ahmed and I were funding a trade school for girls who had completed high school. In our new school they would learn to make carpets, clothing, jewelry or other goods and learn how to market them to NGOs. Giving them this added training would further delay their being married, we thought and it would increase their potential value as a wife immensely. Educated? Skilled? Alla and I had already lined up six NGOs who were interested in marketing their products.

Could I, should I glamour Ahmed into giving up the idea of being turned? On the face of it, it seemed like such a great, and really simple, idea. An instant later I was appalled at myself for even considering it seriously. Wasn't it what I had always hated about what Eric had done or wanted to do with so many humans or Weres? Wasn't I opposed to manipulating people through glamour, taking away their free will? Where did you draw the line and should you be drawing it at all?

"You really wouldn't consider turning him?" Eric murmured into my hair. "If he wanted to be turned, you _would_ be the safest bet for him. It wouldn't even be a sexual connection. You only care about him as your friend, and so he'd be much safer with you. I can see why he asked you. Are you sure you couldn't do it? Someone else could drain him. He'd only need your blood at the right moment to assure the change. You wouldn't even have to watch it, if you didn't want to. He'd really be much safer with you. Are you sure?"

"I just can't do that, Eric. And you better help me convince him that it's a bad idea."

"I can definitely help you convince him that it's a bad idea to let Nicu turn him and then get himself even further ensconced with Gheorghe's line. You get no argument from me on that point. I don't think he'll be very happy with that association for the rest of his existence. That line descends from Vlad the Impaler himself. "

"If he asks you to do it, you better say no, Eric."

"If he asks me, you better step up and glamour your friend, min älskade. Ahmed has the potential to be quite useful. If he's determined to get himself turned, he could do much worse than have me as a sire. If you believe he shouldn't be turned, then you'll have to do something about it."

"I can't believe I'd actually consider glamouring him just to keep him safe. It's frightening to think that I think I know what's best for someone else, about such an important thing, on top of it. I really have to think this one over."

Eric sighed.

"There's nothing wrong with glamouring a human. You were designed to do it, after all. And for the record, this all counts as chatter. A good twenty minutes left before dawn and you just want to chatter. I feel like I'm finally making headway here. I've finally got you settled down enough to just talk in bed again, _without_ it being during sex."

"This is serious business, Eric! And we talk all the time, what are you talking about?"

"_Chatter_, mitt hjärta. We are naked, in our bed, not having sex and you're chattering." He grinned. "I have tired you out. I have _won_."

"You have not! And we just _had _sex! What are you talking about?"

He reached over and took his watch off the night stand and poised it above my face.

"Nineteen minutes. Plenty of time left. But you're tired and you just want to talk. I remember how to do that quite well. I had years of practice and I really rather enjoyed talking with you right before dawn. Actually, I'm delighted. I enjoy winning so very much. Winning with you is always such a pleasure. And now that I've won on this one, I'm going to win on the issue of the roof, as well."

"You will not. And you haven't won a damn thing, Eric! We were having a serious conversation."

"On the roof, and with you _enjoying_ it," he murmured.

I elbowed him in the ribs and he smacked my backside lightly.

"Don't you go smacking me, Mr. Northman," I said elbowing him again.

He rolled over on top of me and I was promptly tickled until I pleaded for mercy. What bad luck it was that I was ticklish even when dead. He grinned playfully as held me pinned to the bed. I looked up at him and licked my lips then traced my gaze slowly downward and smiled.

Of course, there were still almost fifteen minutes left before dawn…

"What were we talking about?" I asked.

He leaned down and kissed me.

"I forget," he said, laughing.

* * *

**Author's Note 05/01/2010**

Since at least five readers have commented on Sookie's discussion with Eric about Ahmed**, **and have taken away the passage the _incorrect assumption that Sookie is in favor of glamouring her friend_, I can only conclude that I have written the passage poorly. Her thinking is best summarized by the passage above where she thinks to herself:

_"Could I, should I glamour Ahmed into giving up the idea of being turned? On the face of it, it seemed like such a great, and really simple, idea. An instant later I was appalled at myself for even considering it seriously. Wasn't it what I had always hated about what Eric had done or wanted to do with so many humans or Weres? Wasn't I opposed to manipulating people through glamour, taking away their free will? Where did you draw the line and should you be drawing it at all?"_

Clearly she recognizes the irony of what she is discussing with Eric and sees that she is on a slippery slope. Rather than get back into some of her age-old arguments with Eric about his glamouring people as if it's nothing, she replies in the discussion with the relatively mild (from Sookie's usual stance on the topic) comment to Eric:

_"I can't believe I'd actually consider glamouring him just to keep him safe. It's frightening to think that I think I know what's best for someone else, about such an important thing, on top of it. I really have to think this one over."_

They are in bed, just made love, she had a bad night first with Ahmed's revelation he's interested in being turned and then with doing something that she, herself, has identified as being a real jerk with Cadel and the very _last_ thing that she's interested in is getting into an argument with Eric about his always wanting to glamour people and thinking he knows what's best. Her son got stabbed, she thinks her friend is planning to do something dangerous, plus she really upset someone that is one of her closest and kindest friends. She's not looking for an argument with Eric on top of all that and she's not sure what she thinks is her role in protecting Ahmed from what she considers to be a really dangerous plan for someone who is quite naive about the terrible circumstances being turned could leave him in. On the one hand, she's very, very realistic and honest with Ahmed about the immense risks his being turned could pose for him, and on the other, she's mind of the fact that her position has always been that free will is important.

Upshot: Sookie does NOT agree with Eric that either glamouring him _or_ Eric turning him is the solution to Ahmed's desire to be turned.


	7. Chapter 7

**VII.**

**October 2021**

I'd just come upstairs from Pam's office, and planned to look through some of the quotes for work on the private room interiors for the estate. I felt like it had already been a long night, even thought it was still early, since Pam and Stefan were on vacation in Spain and we were all kind of scrambling to cover their work. Eric was doing all the accounting end himself, but he still did so much of it regularly that he could get through that and still do half a dozen meetings without missing a beat. Andor had started out covering for Stefan but really hated anything having to do with a computer. So I'd been trying to cover Stefan's end of the scheduling, and some of Pam's correspondence. But since things were quiet tonight, I'd decided to take a break for a while, and had come back upstairs to relax and look through some of the designs and estimates.

I entered our rooms and heard what sounded like that bowling game on the Wii3. I glanced at my watch, puzzled. It was 11:08 pm and Hunter had had a date to go see a movie with some girl. It seemed awfully early for him to be back. He and Caitlin had broken up several months ago, although since he mentioned her just about every day, I was seriously wondering how broken up they really were. The reason for their breakup- the fact that Hunter was quite obviously less than forthcoming with her- was the source of a standing debate. Hunter didn't know whether to tell Caitlin the truth: that he was vaguely part fairy, telepathic and psychic to boot, or whether to keep the whole thing under wraps. Andor and Cadel were in favor of not telling her a damn thing. Hunter was going to be 20 and what were the odds that this was a serious relationship, they asked? The risk of having the information out there was a problem in their eyes. Eric and I, on the other hand, had had many a long discussion about the fact that when you were a telepath, it was something of a miracle to find someone alive that you _really_ enjoyed being with. I'd even considered whether he should just tell her and if they broke up, she could simply be glamoured into not revealing what she knew about him.

Given Hunter's present state of being (human, had had only Eric's blood when he'd had a bad fall horseback riding, broken bones and bumped his head at age 14, mine the previous month) about the only mind he _wasn't_ going to hear easily was a vampire mind. And I was not keen on Hunter getting chewed on at such a young age. I was rather surprised that Eric wasn't either, and that he seemed to be puzzled that Hunter and Caitlin had broken up. Eric said that Hunter had remarked once that Caitlin had a 'sparkling clean mind', meaning that she was a genuinely nice person, in Hunter parlance. Basically, I thought he was really afraid of telling her about himself and having her freak out. She had remarked to me once that Hunter got so moody at times. The problem was that Hunter read _her_ moods and got his feelings hurt when she wasn't in the mood to be with him. He told me that he'd gotten to the point where he could read her, and Weres in general with little effort. He said that she was getting uneasy about that fact that he seemed to read her every mood so easily. She thought there was something odd about it, but he insisted otherwise and she distrusted his response. It put a lot of pressure on a partner, as Eric knew full well, though he never seemed to complain, to be in a relationship with a telepath. But obviously Eric was very skilled in both controlling his thoughts and in what he allowed me to see of them, even now. I doubted that Caitlin, at almost 24, was going to be quite as deft as an eleven hundred year old.

Anyway, I'd thought that Hunter had canceled, or returned early from his date. He'd seemed fairly lackluster about the whole thing anyway, even though he said the girl was very pretty. He didn't say she was sharp or insightful or funny or any of the many things I'd heard about Caitlin. Caitlin was really a beautiful girl but what Hunter mentioned most about her were the things that made someone a good companion. So when I heard the sounds in the dayroom, I really thought he'd just come back home or never even left for his date. So I was surprised to find my laptop on, feed from all the security cameras running on it, _and_ on my desktop computer and, nearby, one Cadel Gurdin practicing bowling on Hunter's Wii3. He was wearing an old black _Grateful Dead_ t-shirt, jeans, and white socks with no shoes. His hair was mussed up. It looked like he'd climbed out of bed and barely looked in the mirror. What was going on with him, I thought to myself? Why is he in here?

"Um, hello?" I said in a questioning tone.

"Hang on… Bloody hell! Damn it!" he said, shaking his head with disgust. "I can only get spares! It's bloody _rigged,_ it is."

"Um, Cadel, it's virtual. It's got nothing to do with _real_ bowling other than the name."

"I'm trying to practice my aim. Markus beat me by about 50 bloody points on the weekend. He bowled an almost perfect game. I can't believe it. It's ego-shattering."

I cracked up.

"Okey dokey, then."

I sat down on the daybed and started sorting through the faxed estimates for the wall treatments. He went on bowling and there was a lot of what sounded like cursing in Welsh. I got up and grabbed a tangelo off the dining room table, sat back down and started peeling it, enjoying the scent.

"Can I get myself a True Blood?" Cadel asked, after finishing the game.

"Of course, help yourself."

"Do you want one as well?" he asked as he turned to look at me. He did a double take. "What are you _doing_?" he asked, wide eyed as he took in the fact that I had food in my hand.

"I like the scent. Fruits are what I miss the most. I'll just leave it for Hunter. He loves tangelos."

"You're joking…"

"Nope. Some scents aren't pleasant anymore, like onions and garlic, or cooking meat. But fruit… I just love the scent. It's almost as nice as flowers to me. I really miss fruit. I wish I could eat it. But if I can't, I'll smell it."

He looked at me as if he was saying to himself mentally that I'd 'gone daft'. I didn't want to read his specific thoughts on the matter. I didn't need even my closest friends or family thinking I was crazy. I sniffed a piece of peel and smiled.

"Blood? How about a nice bottle of _blood_?" he offered.

I paused for a moment and thought about how hungry I was. I was _always_ hungry now. An irony not one bit lost on Pam. I looked at my watch. It was a bit early for a fourth bottle, but what the heck. I was starved. I was always starved.

"Yeah, I guess. Thanks." I glanced at him as he put down the game wand and zoomed off to the kitchen. I really got the sense that he was kind of agitated about something. It was very odd that he'd just let himself into our rooms without asking. I done that once with him but he'd never done it in our rooms.

Moments later, as I continued to compare the estimates and sniff at the peel, Cadel sat next to me on the daybed after placing our bottles on the coffee table. The annoying music from the Bowling game, punctuated by the sound of strikes, went on and on, an infinite loop on the Wii3/TV system.

"You'll get over missing that stuff," he said. He picked up the bottle and handed it to me. "You should drink. You're really pale. I hate to agree with Pamela, but I really don't think you drink enough. You ought to be pinker. Like you were in the very beginning, remember? It just takes more for some people. I was ravenous all the time when I was young. I fed a lot."

He paused and looked like he thought like he ought not to comment further. I turned away and sipped, thinking that it was probably a very fine idea not to get into any of that. Being ravenous in the 1650's with Ocella as your sire did not bode well for the human population. I put the peel back on the coffee table and we sat there silently drinking. I finished first and put the empty bottle back on the table.

"Cadel?" I murmured quietly, shuffling through some of the computer generated images of the interiors.

"Yeah?"

"Are you going to tell me why you're really here? I mean, _in_ here? What's going on? It's like the first time in twelve years that I can recall your just showing up like this."

He rearranged the various items on the coffee table meticulously, after sniffing the tangelo peel and making a face. He studied the objects on the table surface. Cadel had a photographic memory. It was one of his 'gifts' and memorizing things was something that he enjoyed, even as a game. After about two or three minutes of silence he said,

"My ex is coming to New Orleans."

I paused to see if he'd say more, but he was silent. Just as I opened my mouth to ask _which ex_, he spoke.

"Not Maggie. This one's from Germany."

"The one from when you lived in Munich?"

"Jawohl, ydw," he said, mixing German and Welsh in his agreement.

I sat there, still silent, sorting through my papers.

"She's a were," he said quietly.

I still didn't say much, though I nodded. Of course, I already knew about that, having been told by Eric that he and Stefan knew that Cadel had had a long term relationship with a were.

"Fox. She's a werefox," he clarified.

I flashed on annoying memories of Tanya and… oh, never mind.

"Cadel, you seem kind of apprehensive. Is she just on vacation or is she coming to see you, specifically?"

He, again, was very silent for a while. I was really struggling at this point not to just zoom into his brain, if only just to get a feel for whether he was okay or not.

"She says she's coming to see me."

I looked at his face, trying to simply read his expression the old fashioned way, as I would have before I'd been turned. He was acting as if very absorbed in examining the fine points of the Wii wand. So I was getting the impression that he was _very_ stressed out.

"Well, that's…. nice," I ventured.

"We broke up badly, right before I left Munich to come here," he said quietly.

It was clear from the short bursts of information he was willing to relay that it was still, thirteen years later, a point of emotional distress for him.

"How long were you together?" I asked.

He turned to me and grimaced.

"With one thing and another, fifteen years."

My jaw dropped and his face shadowed and looked more closed in response to how shocked I must have looked.

"Wow, Cadel. That's a long time. Like longer than Eric and…"

"Yeah, like being married. Except, that I didn't live with her. I didn't… I couldn't do that. You know."

"Is that why you guys broke up? When you came here I mean?"

"No. Not just that. I guess it was just really complicated. We weren't always getting along well over those fifteen years."

I must have look puzzled because then he said,

"When you meet her, maybe you'll understand."

"So, _I'm_ going to meet her?" I asked, in soft surprise.

He picked up his bottle and ran his index finger over the letters in the name True Blood.

"I want you to go with me and try to see what it is that she really wants. Because I'm not buying what Heike's said in the email. Just visiting was never Heike's style."

"What's she like?" I asked.

His face brightened again slightly.

"She's an artist. You'll probably like her. If she's in the mood to _be_ liked. She's rather intense at times."

"Well, I'll like her if she's reasonable with you, Cadel. But I'm not too well disposed to werefoxes, I'd have to tell you. What is it that you think she wants?"

He frowned.

"I don't know. What I do know is that the email announcing that she was visiting was about as classic a piece of Heike not telling you anything you want to know as I've ever seen. She wants _something_, but I don't know what. But then we always had problems not knowing what the other wanted, so I guess it's not too likely to have improved with time and distance, right?"

"You haven't seen or heard from her in all this time?"

"She sends me an e-card on my birthday."

My jaw dropped again.

"You told me you didn't know when your birthday is!"

"I don't. So it's the last Sunday in November every year."

"Cadel! Well, you could have at least told us _that_."

"Nah. That was just something with Heike. I've never celebrated it. Even when I was alive. I mean, I believe it was probably sometime in November based on something I was told when I was kid. But you know, records for us lot weren't exactly a priority. I couldn't even read them if they were recorded anywhere at the time. My parents didn't read. My father couldn't even sign his name, really. Maybe it's recorded somewhere in Cardiff, but I'd doubt it. So there's really no way to be sure. Anyway, trying to celebrate it would just remind me of Munich. Or of my cheerful parents. I don't _need_ a birthday." He turned glanced back at the TV and started tinkering with the settings for the game.

I tried not to show how very badly I felt at his words. But I felt awful for him. Not even to _want_ a birthday because it would remind him of his parents, or of Munich? He was not at all proud of how he'd been living when he was in Munich. Basically he'd been selling vampire blood as a street drug. There'd been no easy job to be had for Cadel's skills because there was no one there he really wanted to work for. As I'd come to see, in spite of his playful and easy-going manner, Cadel was really rather choosy about who he'd work for and what he'd be willing to do in working for a person. In that respect, he and I were very much alike.

"So when is she coming?" I finally asked.

"She should be here in the morning. I've put her up at the Ritz."

"Wow. So soon? Do you want her to come here?"

Cadel turned to me and looked at me as if I'd gone _really _gone daft.

"Okay…" I said, "_Where_ are we meeting her?"

"I was thinking at The Dungeon."

I wrinkled my nose. It was a bit loud and so… public. But maybe that's exactly what he wanted.

"You don't like the idea, then?" he said, rising as he started a new game. "Do you want to play?"

"No," I said. "On the game, I mean. Really, Cadel, you know her, and where you feel comfortable meeting with her. So… what do you want me to say or not say. I don't know how much she knows about your life here. And what should I tell Eric about our going out to meet her?"

He turned back and looked a little alarmed.

"No… No, I'd prefer that Eric not know about this. It's my private business and I'm asking you as _my_ friend, my _sister_. And she doesn't know much very about my connection with Eric. She just knows we had the same sire. She didn't know how close we were or not. She just knew I'd work for him and had known him a long time. She knows I'm close to Stefan but she'd never even met him. I tended to keep things separate. You know, discrete and… safe. Look, I'm not saying that I want you to portray it like we're together or anything, okay? I just want to know what she really wants. Why she's really here. And... maybe I just don't want to go alone."

He looked so agitated. I didn't know whether to tell him that Eric and Stefan already knew about her. After a moment's hesitation, I decided against it. Maybe it would just get him more upset. He seemed really to crave his privacy and thinking that they'd known for years that he'd been involved with her and said nothing might upset him, rather than comfort him that they'd accepted his affection for a were long ago. I'd try to find a nice way to get him there mentally, later.

The following night, after a very pleasurable early evening that made Eric laugh (he discovered that I'd installed a simple deadbolt lock, right above the fancy electronic scanner lock, on the door to the sauna room to assure our privacy when we were in it) I got ready to go meet Heike with Cadel. I went dressed all in black, hair pulled back in a ponytail and with just a bit of makeup. I wanted to be sure _not_ to look like I was Cadel's girlfriend, no matter what. Eric had given me the look when I went by his office before going to my shared office with Amelia. He was really not happy when I wore all black these days. He then looked askance at Cadel, who lingered back in the doorway. Whereas I looked quite severe and low key, Cadel had taken a lot more care than usual with what he wore and he seemed edgy. His black slacks and posh looking burgundy cashmere sweater really set off his eyes and coloring. But he looked tense and wasn't his usual playful and smiling self. Eric gave me a look when I responded to his question about when I'd be back with a very evasive "Later."

_And what is going on?_

_Um, please, don't ask? I'll make it up to you if you don't ask. Really I will._

He turned to me with a smile and cast his eye over me and then glanced back at Cadel.

"So you're going to your office?"

_I want to know what's going on._

"Yep, I have to pick up some faxes, check a few things on our schedule, send off an order. Plus, Cadel and I are looking at new cameras for the exteriors at the estate."

_And I really can't exactly tell you what's going on._

"And Cadel is going with you?"

_Why not? I want to know what you're doing. And I expect you to tell me._

"MmmHmmm."

_I… can't, Eric. I promised. Nothing bad. No trouble. I promise _you.

_The roof. 4:30 am. In a dress, and not a black one._

I turned to him and looked puzzled.

_What?_

_If you're not going to tell me then I expect to be compensated for the lack of fairness. The roof, in a dress._

_You know, you are such a damn pill, Eric. He's your sibling, right? I think you'd be pleased if I'm supportive._

_You always act like he's your sibling, too. But I am pleased. Quite pleased. The _roof_. _

I gasped in outrage and put my hands on my hips, glaring at him.

_No way!_

"Are you two going to go on like this all night? Bloody silent arguing…" asked Cadel, leaning in the door. "I'll go talk to Markus for a while and you just let me know when you're ready to leave, Sookie?"

Eric looked over at Cadel as if now thoroughly puzzled. Cadel was hardly _ever_ this serious. And he sounded annoyed, not joking. Quite annoyed!

"I'm ready. I'm sorry." I bent down and quickly kissed Eric, who looked quite merry as he was signing some sort of contract, and then shuffling through pages of his calendar. "Don't forget that investor guy rescheduled for later tonight rather than tomorrow. If your conference call with Dani runs long, it will cut into your time with him."

Eric just waved me out the door. Andor entered as I left, looking at Cadel as if quite puzzled. Cadel clearly looked agitated and not at all like his usual confident and mischievous self.

Cadel and I headed downstairs and just as we entered the garage I got a text message from Eric.

_No underwear._

I stopped dead in my tracks, turned to Cadel and said,

"You are _seriously_ going to owe me for this, Cadel."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. If you don't put a move on it, you won't have the _time_ to go to your bloody office. And then you'll be lying to him."

I gave him a dark look. We walked to my car and to my utter astonishment, Cadel got in the passenger side and compliantly put on his seat belt. I tried to think back in time to a similar occasion. The last time I clearly remember Cadel _not_ driving my car was before Eric and I got married. It's bad, I thought to myself…

About an hour later, we arrived at the Dungeon. It was 11 pm and the moon, which was just past three quarter full, emerged from the clouds for the first time that night. As we got out of the car, Cadel looked up at the moon and got an odd look on his face. I tried to take his arm as we walked toward the entrance but he just said, "Later."

I don't know what I had expected, really. But whatever it was that I had expected, it wasn't what I found.

Tall, slender, with exquisite bone structure and almost blue black hair and gray-green eyes, you could see that she had been truly gorgeous when she was younger and had now mellowed to merely beautiful, though so very fragile. She looked to be perhaps 50, though a very attractive 50 year old woman. Like there were film stars that would want to look that good at 50, I thought to myself. So beautiful, but… she was so ill.

She was in pain, and to me, just gazing at her, you could see it so easily. She was so _very_ ill. Except that somehow Cadel didn't seem to sense it right away. I could feel Cadel's discomfort as he leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek and introduced me. But his concern, voiced in his own mind, was that she had aged quite a bit. It was so very sad and uncomfortable to him. She looked at him as if the feeling on that point was quite mutual. Cadel was very nice looking, and of course was so charming and playful. He was forever a sparkling-eyed and dimpled 18 and she was 50. Looking at the two of them, and how they seemed to look at each other, or more accurately, how they didn't seem to _want_ to look at each other, or at least not too closely, suddenly drove home a point to me. What would it have been like for Eric if I'd really grown old, gotten ill, if we were… like they were? What would it have been like for me? Thinking about it in the abstract was so different from seeing the real thing. The real thing was here in front of me, and it was hard to see.

As we waited to be seated, Cadel and Heike made small talk. She seemed puzzled by my presence. A bit annoyed, and more than a bit disappointed by it, as well. We were seated at a table in one of the quieter areas and Cadel sat next to me, facing her.

After more than half an hour of chatting back and forth, part of the time in German, they seemed no closer to arriving at discussing what it was she was really there for. Since Cadel didn't even seem to be troubled by that, I just said telepathically to him,

_Cadel, she's not going to talk to you with me here._

He was silent for several minutes as he kept chatting about people they knew. Finally, he said, in a clearly formed mental thought sent to me,

_Sookie, what's wrong with her? There's clearly something wrong. What's wrong with her?_

I didn't know what to do. So I shifted in my seat and caught her eye. I glamoured her in the bat of an eye and she stopped, mid-sentence, frozen in her seat. Cadel turned to me, absolutely shocked.

"What are you on about? What are you _doing_? I thought you didn't believe in doing stuff like that?"

"Well, I don't but I also didn't want to just go slamming stuff into your head, Cadel, okay? I needed to talk to you for real."

He tensed up.

"What is it then?"

I bit my lip.

"I really think you should let me go on home, and… She needs to talk to you and she'll never do that with me here, okay? I know you're… ambivalent about seeing her, but you need to talk to her. _Alone_."

Cadel turned back me and looked almost angry.

"What the bloody hell is wrong with her? Let's skip the moral issues and you be my friend, my sister, and tell me, straight out, what you can see, okay? What is _wrong_ with her?"

I didn't know what to say. I looked down at my bottle for a second and then met his eyes.

"She's dying," I whispered. "She has an incurable cancer. It's in her bones, her blood. Myeloma or something? She's _dying_, Cadel."

His entire face went dark, lost all the inner light and fire that was Cadel. I reached over under the table to try to take his hand or arm but he pulled away and looked so very sad. I felt like he was suddenly Ft. Knox, with a wall all around. But I could still see beyond that wall and… he had truly loved her. And it had made him so very afraid of her he could hardly stand it at times.

"I'm so sorry Cadel. I'm so very sorry."

"I could give her blood," he murmured, almost to himself.

I looked over at her, so still and glamoured into silence. She was so very fragile physically.

"I think she tried that. She was getting it from a dealer for a while. But it doesn't seem like it's working anymore. She's been sick for more than five years. It's in her bones. She's in a lot of pain. But you could still feel that part, couldn't you? That's how you knew something was wrong with her."

"So why did she come?" he asked apprehensively.

To say goodbye, I thought to myself. To say she was sorry. That she loved him and forgave him his distance and his caution. To say she knew he'd loved her. To say so many things. None of which she'd ever be able to say if I was there, and all of which Cadel really needed to hear and she needed to say. With my eyes slightly teary, I rose. Cadel looked up at me, incredulous. I leaned forward and touched her face gently looking into her eyes. I pulled something from her mind, seemingly without effort, not even knowing how I knew to do what I could do…

"Ich war nicht hier. Sag ihm. Sag ihm so wie Du geplannt hast," I whispered to her. _I was not here. Tell him. Tell him the way you had planned._ I glanced back at him and said, "I'll take the car and I promise I'll be really careful. You need to do this by yourself or she'll never be able to tell you what she came here to tell you. You'll be okay. But you have to stay and listen. For both of you. She came a long way to tell you. I'm sorry I can't make it easier for you, Cadel. I'm really so sorry. For everything afterward, you know I'm there for you. But not this. This I can't help you do. Maybe later, you'll understand. But until then, I'm sorry if you feel I let you down."

He looked so upset, so… hurt. I tried to send him a sort of wave of comforting thoughts. And somehow I could see from his expression that it really did something to help him, too. His face suddenly looked as if he felt slightly better, even though he wasn't thrilled that I was leaving. _I'm with you, Cadel, _I thought to him. _Even if I'm not physically here, I'm with you_. I pulled my hand back from her face and mentally walked slowly away from her. As she blinked, in a flash I was gone, taking my half-empty bottle of True Blood with me. I watched them from across the crowded bar, perched on a bar stool, finishing my True Blood. After a few minutes, there was a pause in their conversation. She reached across the table and offered him her hand.

He took it.

**

* * *

**

When Eric came upstairs I was putting up my hair. I was wearing his favorite of my red dresses, which I hadn't worn in about two years now. No undies. He took one look at me and his head tipped at an angle, as his eyes narrowed.

"What's wrong?"

I shook my head.

"Sookie, I was teasing. Are you upset with me?"

"No," I whispered. "No, not at all."

"What is going on? What is going on with you?"

I looked at him in the reflection, then turned around to face him.

"Did you ever stay with anyone a long time and watch them grow old, or get sick and then die? Someone you loved? Did you ever do that before, in the past?"

He stared down at me as if perplexed and shook his head 'no'.

"I didn't… I haven't loved anyone in this sense. The way we are or were before you were turned, no. Why?"

"What would you have done, Eric? If I had lived, grown old, gotten sick, died? What would you have done? How would you have done that? How _could_ you have done that?"

He didn't reply at first. I could almost see him going through his options, trying to decide how to answer. Finally he said,

"I hoped to change your mind. I hoped that if you were happy enough, loved me enough, and were still young enough, that you would change your mind and let me turn you."

While part of me knew this, especially since he'd pretty much _told_ me this the night we'd married, another part of me still felt the shock of it.

"But what if I hadn't? Hadn't changed my mind or if I hadn't been murdered? What then? What would you have done?"

He looked away and after a moment he looked back at me and said firmly,

"I'd have had to just bear it, Sookie. I gave you my word. And I'd have stuck to it. I would have been unhappy. It would have been hard on both of us. Because you would have felt that I was unhappy. I do not know what would have happened other than your living your life, dying your death and my being unhappy about it. I do not know anyone, personally, who has stayed with their partner in similar circumstances. Though I know that some vampires do. Sometimes I wondered if you would try to leave when you got older. But I would never have harmed you if that's what you're asking. I would never have turned you against your will. I would never have… just let you go away to die alone, if that is what you wonder about. Never."

After seeing the reality of Cadel and Heike, the enormity of what Eric had agreed to seemed utterly incomprehensible to me. I was silent as I finished pinning up my hair. Part of me wondered if I ever would have changed my mind. If I would have felt differently if had I _chosen_ to be this way for myself. I could see, in looking at him, that he wondered that, too. I took his hand in mine, leading him out of the bathroom.

"What is going on with you? Or is it with Cadel?" he asked.

I was evasive, because I felt like I couldn't very well discuss Heike with him.

"I'm fine. The rest of your night was okay? The meetings went well?"

He wasn't distracted, not even in the slightest way.

"You smell like you've been someplace with a lot of people. Where did you two go, other than your office?"

"We went to The Dungeon. But I was there for only about half an hour. I left Cadel there and was very careful coming back on my own." I sighed feeling his displeasure that I wouldn't tell him what was going on. And for Cadel to have let me drive back on my own? It had to have been quite serious… "So I'm ready to pay up."

He looked at me in the dress and then gently pulled forward on the low cut neckline and looked down, noting that the dress was all I had on. Then he caught my eyes with his.

"I was teasing you. You were both so serious. I dislike not knowing what you are doing. I'd be more than happy to take you up on it, but you're so sad," he said softly. "You never like to make love when you're like this."

My eyes filled with tears.

I could see him trying to discern if any of it had anything at all to do with him. When he seemed to get that it didn't, he drew me by the hand over to the armchair in the library. He sat down and then pulled me onto his lap, facing me toward him, lifting the skirt so that I easily straddled his thighs, with my knees on the seat cushion. He pulled me toward him, so that I could lean against him, and I rested my forehead against his cheek. He stroked my back soothingly. We sat like that for a while.

"How long before you were happy again, after you were turned, Eric?" I mumbled into his jaw.

"I was unhappy before I died, remember?" he said with a sigh. "I'd lost Aude, my child. They were different times, with different priorities. Happiness, love… they were all indulgences. We lived much better than most, but I had little time for such indulgence." He paused, as he seemed to look backward in time. "I began to feel enjoyment of my strength right away. But I did not enjoy my circumstances until Andor and I were free of Ocella. I did not enjoy the early years of my vampire life although they were better after Andor. Having someone else to care about is always better. Though that was risky, in and of itself, with my sire. As Stefan can attest."

I lay there against him and tried to imagine it. The lives that he, and all of them, had led, other than maybe Pam and Markus, had been so hard. Where did they find the fortitude, I wondered? The fortitude to deal with the latest loss, the latest bad thing. Because there always seemed to be the latest bad thing. But they all seemed to have retained themselves. They had found a way to thrive and even to be happy. Why couldn't I find that? Why couldn't I be like Eric or Cadel or Andor or Stefan?

We didn't go up to the roof. We sat with him holding me for some time. He didn't ask me why I was so upset or try to get me to talk about Cadel or tell me I was spoiled for being upset with my present state of being or that I ought to see how fortunate I was. He didn't say anything at all. He massaged my back and shoulders as I leaned against him. He kissed me. He carried me to bed and just nodded when, in spite of being just under two years old as a vampire, I wanted to sleep rather than have more blood or sex. He kissed me and wrapped himself around me in our bed. I was already out by the time dawn crashed down. Before I fell 'asleep' I was lost in the thoughts of what it would take to love someone alive and so very mortal if you could live, and therefore mourn, forever.

Cadel didn't come home at dawn. He stayed, for the first time with someone alive, during the day at a room on the vampire floor at the Ritz-Carlton hotel. Heike stayed in New Orleans for a week and after that night she stayed in the compound with us for the rest of the week in Cadel's rooms. Cadel introduced her to Eric, Andor and Markus, and to me, of course, since she didn't remember meeting me the first time. When he found out how ill she was, Andor gave her a hefty dose of blood. Older, stronger blood than Cadel's. Her pain eased a little but the night of the full moon, though she changed into a beautiful charcoal gray fox, she just sat curled up, on a chair in Cadel's office. She ate some chicken on a small dish. She was too weak to run. No one asked why Cadel didn't turn her, or why she obviously didn't want to be turned. The day before she left, Stefan and Pam returned and they met her as well. Cadel went back to Munich with her. Sadly, though, she died within just two weeks.

Her death seemed to change something in him. It seemed as though it had almost healed something in his heart, even though he was so very sad about her passing. It also seemed to help him to have all of us. He was less guarded about his sorrows, which for Cadel was a big change in his way of living his life. Though Markus joked with Eric that Andor and Pam were just afraid of what I'd do to them if they were even slightly harsh with Cadel in the weeks after he'd returned from Munich, the reality was that everyone was supportive of him. Everyone was kind about her passing and his very obvious loss. Pam and I helped him hang two of her paintings, his favorites, he'd said, in his rooms. She'd never sold them because he'd loved them. They were the only artwork on his walls I realized, other than the little picture from Wales. I understood why he'd never wanted anything hanging on his walls before. I was sure, what with his amazing visual memory, he'd just seen them there all along. I looked, with him, through a photo album he'd brought back with him of their years together in Munich. I saw photos of more of her work online at various gallery websites in Germany and Austria. She had done beautiful abstract images, with rich colors, so vital and full of life.

On the last Sunday in November, we all went bowling. Nothing was said about birthdays. I just didn't want Cadel to be alone. Markus beat him by 32 points after bowling a perfect game. Cadel was fit to be tied.

A week later I awoke one evening to find my computer on and the browser open to a website called SolskenSookie_s. The website featured streaming video archived over the past twenty-four hours from multiple web-cameras set up in three locations: Bronwyn Gower's Fairy Ring, the Northman Estate, and the Stackhouse garden in Bon Temps. There were several views of each garden and some were even low to the ground, so that I would be able to see new shoots coming up in the spring, like crocuses, for instance. It even had audio, so that I could hear birds singing and bees buzzing.

The instructions on how to save any video segments I particularly enjoyed and even capture still images were printed on folded sheet of paper, which had been threaded through a fork's tines. The handle end of the fork was embedded in a ripe and fragrant peach.

I cried.


	8. Chapter 8

**VIII.**

**December 25, 2021**

It was our twelfth wedding anniversary and I was drunk.

I know vampires shouldn't be able to get drunk. But somewhere, somehow (I was almost afraid to ask how) Eric had gotten about a full pint of fairy blood. It was just about the best thing that I'd ever tasted in my entire life/death/whatever you wanted to call the sum total of my existence. It was _really_ hard to share. It made you want to be seriously greedy. Vampire drunk isn't really like human drunk, but it's definitely not totally in control. Though, Eric still looked so in control and so focused which was so… frustrating.

Because I was really, really drunk.

We were on our own, at the estate, up on the roof, under the stars. Very romantic, being under the stars… It was in the 40's F, but of course, we weren't cold. Which was good, because we were so very, very naked. Eric was so pleased with himself. If it hadn't been our anniversary, I'd have been totally pissed. He'd bet me that he'd get me to do it on the roof. He just didn't specify _which_ roof. He'd denied me at sunset and then plied me with fairy blood and now he was smiling, in fact grinning. It was quite obnoxious. It kind of snapped me into a brief moment of clarity.

"Have I mentioned recently how incredibly insufferable I think you are?"

"Sookie, I'm the pagan equivalent of a _saint_ where you're concerned. And you're enjoying yourself, so just stop complaining, or I won't let you move," he chuckled as he grabbed my hips and held them.

I shifted my position and rocked my hips a bit to prove I still could. Of course he wasn't really holding me all that firmly, either. And the slight moan that escaped his lips when I moved and squeezed indicated to me that he had little real interest in my _not _moving.

"Slow…" he whispered. "I want to savor the moment of my triumph."

I reached for the flute with the blood in it and he grabbed my hand and brought it to his lips.

"Whoa…. No more right now, okay? You are going to be quite hung over from what you've already had."

I pouted. There was another good mouthful still in my glass. I eyed it greedily. It was so very, very delicious.

"Do I even want to know how you got it?" I asked somewhat woozily.

"It's donated and it cost a fortune. Almost as much as your earrings."

He'd given me perfectly matched blue diamond solitaires and I'd given him a relatively modest TAG Heuer watch that Pam had helped me choose.

"So no fairies were harmed in the making of this celebration?"

He rocked his head back and laughed.

"None at all, min älskade. I'm assuming you'll think that's a good thing?" he said, smiling at me.

"Depends on the fairy. Where do you even find a fairy these days?"

"For that, you'd have to ask Ludwig. I haven't a clue and I'm sure they don't want the information out there."

"Is there a reason why, if I need so much more blood than you do, only a bit of it has made me so giddy and it seems that it hardly affects you?"

"I haven't had much, and I've had enough in the past to know my limit. But mostly, I wanted to be alert enough to fully enjoy the fact that I have won. You and I are here, on the roof, and you are quite… amenable."

"You got me drunk and took advantage of me. And I'm not even sure this roof counts."

"I got you to relax and you look like you're enjoying yourself. Of course, there isn't a soul around for at least half a mile. I'm willing to call it a draw."

"I can read your mind and you're insufferable. You think you _won_."

He stilled for a moment and took my face in his hands.

"I can read your mind and this is the happiest I've seen you in two years. I cannot tell you how happy that makes me."

"Knowing me, it won't last for long, though, right? I can always find some way to screw things up. One of my many talents." Gosh I was drunk...

"Knowing me, I won't let you lose the positive momentum." He leaned closer and kissed me as I let out a soft moan as I rocked my hips.

For just a moment I saw a flash in his mind that I needed to talk to Hunter. He was so very worried about Hunter, but as soon as he sensed I could see that, his mind shifted away. Wrong time, he seemed to think. I shouldn't be thinking about this right now. He leaned me back away from him and my legs curled around his hips. He looked at me and I felt as if we were almost the same person, each inside the other, the connection between us was so strong. I reached out and stroked his cheek. He turned his head and kissed the palm of my hand then looked back at me.

"I love you so much, Eric."

"And I love you, mitt hjärta. Even if you don't see it, you _are_ happier. It is getting better." He hesitated and then said, "I am glad you will not leave me alone, Sookie. I do not know that I would ever be happy being alone again. I do not know anymore how to be happy without you."

His words pierced my heart. He looked so calm as he said them considering their meaning. I thought of Cadel, who was still so very sad and wondered if you could ever really recover from such losses. Human, or vampire, losing a beloved companion seemed to me as if it was something truly unbearable, just even to contemplate.

"I'll never leave you, Eric. I promise you that. Never. I'll fight to find happiness this way. Really I will. I promise you," I whispered. "I promise you I'll never leave you alone."


	9. Chapter 9

**IX.**

**March 2022**

"I see _dead people._" Markus elbowed me as he said it. His eyes twinkled as he surveyed the room with Cadel and me.

Cadel and I looked at each other and simultaneously groaned.

We were just working our way through the sales floor at the convention center for the Summit. Since all three of us were in charge of security we were walking the floors as we had every evening since the Summit's start. Markus had been practically floating on air after promotion to being Andor's second in February. Cadel was now doing intelligence for Louisiana almost exclusively, although he still kept an eye on all the surveillance portions of our security with Markus. And of course, he kept an eye on me. But things had settled down for me. No death threats in almost two months. No bomb scares. No more my going out without backup. Things were peaceful for the most part.

The AVL's Summit of Central States was convened this year in Baton Rouge. It had taken many months of planning. Things had been smooth for the first two days. Most of the time Pam and I hung out together. She attended several meetings, as his second, that Eric could not attend, but mostly, we just relaxed the rest of the time, while Eric did other things. We were all here in Baton Rouge. Things were placid at home and Maxwell was in New Orleans overseeing things while we all attended the summit. Pam had been amazed that Eric would allow all of us to travel together even just to Baton Rouge. He considered it a confident display of power that we could all be together here. His state was quite stable and he felt no qualms about having us in one location. We were having a good time and enjoying Eric's success with the event after more than a year of planning it.

I was still kind of edgy that we didn't have any SecureScan systems set up in the conference areas and ballroom. The hotel had been pretty uncooperative in the end about the extent of security that we'd wanted. Cadel had spliced into their security cameras and installed additional temporary webcams. But we didn't have a foolproof way of preventing weapons getting into the area.

"It will be fine," had said Markus optimistically. "Just about everybody in this group gets along and we haven't had trouble at the last five summits. I'm more concerned about the potential for terrorism."

Cadel didn't comment, but was checking the camera feed on his very slick new phone, which was allowing him to monitor the various cameras real time.

"Well, with the special badges it's definitely easier to see that anyone here is supposed to be here," I remarked.

Cadel grimaced.

"Yeah, well there are definitely some people here who shouldn't be here at all, if you take my meaning," he said.

I had gotten a nice text message from Nan at sunset on the first night of the Summit, informing me that Salome was being let back into the country. It capped my perfect start to the Summit since I'd had a flat tire driving to Baton Rouge with Pam, and broken two nails changing my tire with her. Of course they'd grown back quickly, but it ruined my manicure just the same as if I'd been human.

In the cryptic logic of the American Vampire League, their decree banishing Salome was tied to her threats against a valuable human, _alive_ me. But now I was _dead_ me, and considerably less lustrous in their eyes, although my murder trial had been a smashing PR success thanks to the fact that I really didn't want my murderer executed. But that was now nine months ago and old news. And I wasn't a fragile human anymore, so in the AVL's eyes, the reason for Salome's banishment was gone. That very first night, rumor had it that she was already in Baton Rouge. As a result, Andor, Cadel and Eric had decided that I wasn't allowed to be on my own at all. Nan had repeatedly assured Eric that I was perfectly safe. Eric and Andor weren't believing it, though.

Salome had indeed shown up at the Baton Rouge Summit, intending to petition the AVL to regain control of her Area in Tunica, where she still held multiple businesses. She had also shown up with her grudge against us, and me in particular, clearly still in tow. I was amazed that it took her two whole days to try to go after me. Given her usually cavalier manner, I supposed she was showing incredible restraint. But eventually, there she was, right in front of Pam and me. Practically spitting in my face. Standing way too close, touching us way too much. We had been walking across the floor of the Grand Ballroom, where the AVL had just had a presentation. The crowd was quickly dispersing, and its thinning allowed Salome to find us fairly quickly. I was aware of several curious onlookers as Salome sauntered up to us and immediately got in our faces.

"Come on, Sookie. Let's just move on," said Pam.

She cackled. "Yes, do what your little sire suggests. Let her order you about."

I gazed at Salome, slowly growing sloe-eyed. I'd have happily moved on, but she'd blocked our intended path.

"Leave us alone, Salome," I said. "Just… leave us alone."

"But I'm enjoying myself at Eric's charming little Summit. And I want to enjoy myself even more. Now that you are turned, there's less to enjoy of you, but I'm sure you still taste quite delightful. Surely you have tempered your… resistance to a bit of recreation? Surely your little sire has broken you in a bit, right?" She smiled at me as her eyes practically left tread marks on me.

Pam pulled my arm toward her and Salome reached out and stroked Pam's hair. Pam struck her hand away and Salome, who was barely taller at all, backhanded Pam in the face. My fangs instantly down, I loomed over her.

"Don't you dare touch her! Leave us _alone_, Salome."

She cackled again. "What, you do not wish me to play with your little sire? What Eric saw in the two of you I cannot imagine. Such pale and fragile creatures. And yet, there must have been something if he went to the trouble… Why can't we enjoy some diversion so I can find out what it was? The three of us. Why not?"

Pam turned on her, hissing fangs down. "I'd sooner meet the morning sun than have anything to do with you."

"I'm sure we could arrange that. No? Then you can loan me your child, perhaps. And your delicious sire in your place. To _play_ with. Only," she reached out and stroked my face and onto my throat, and down my chest, "to play with… gently."

Pam growled at her and batted her hand away from me and this time Salome struck her hard enough to almost knock her down. I stepped in between them and looked her in the eyes.

"Leave us alone," I said again, my eyes sliding into their coppery metallic tone. I subtly tried to glamour her into leaving us alone. But Salome… was unaffected! She gazed, puzzled, at me.

"What is that? What are your eyes like that? What an odd color…" she said suspiciously.

"Leave us alone Salome. Walk away. Leave me and mine out of your plans."

She grinned. "_Yours_? What is _yours_? What here, in this place, is yours? At your age _nothing_ is yours. You are hers and you, yourself, are less than nothing. A mere toy to be played with."

I moved closer and said in a low tone, "My sire, my husband, anyone in my family. Leave us _all _alone."

She stared at me mockingly.

"Why? _Why_ should I listen to you? You are _nothing_," she hissed.

Again I tried, silently this time, to glamour her, but to no avail. Eric had been right. I had finally met a vampire upon whom my little tricks did not work. But I could still read her and she was full of a growing sense of menace. She was still thinking about angering me by going after Pam. And it was working because I was getting angry just thinking that she'd try to go after her again.

"We should all just walk away, Salome. Cut it out and leave us alone."

She looked at me with obvious contempt.

"Are you threatening _me?_"

Without backing away even a millimeter, I said,

"_No._"

"Then get out of my way," she said, as she looked at Pam, as if intending to harm her further.

"You will not _dare_ touch her, do you hear me? Walk away," I insisted. "You don't know me, you don't know anything about me, and I'm telling you that you're making a mistake. Just… walk away. _Walk away_, Salome."

I took Pam's arm, pushing her carefully more in front of me and started to walk away myself.

"Sssookie," she said, hissing out my name.

As I turned back toward her, she threw a slender blade toward us. It struck me in the chest. Pam let out a small cry and people around us gasped. Trying not to openly cringe, I pulled out the blade, making a soft sound as I expelled air from my chest. Well, that hurt like hell, I thought to myself. The blade was clearly silver from its lustre. Salome of Samaria had tried to kill me. I felt my eyes glow. I was getting to the end of my willingness to be appropriate. I looked at the dripping blade carefully and then licked my blood off of it, to further hushed gasps from onlookers.

"Why, Salome, how very thoughtful of you to give me a weapon" I said, holding up the knife. As the wound in my chest rapidly sealed, people around murmured, as they realized the blade was silver. "I had no idea that you had such a sense of fair play. I have _s_o misjudged you."

"You are not normal," she said with a nasty tone of voice that I had heard once, more than a decade before. I could hear her thoughts as she rapidly parsed how this could be? How was I unaffected by a silver blade? What was wrong with my eyes and why had she felt something odd from me, and even now, it was like I was… in her head or something.

"I'm just a regular vampire, Salome. A vampire who's telling you to let me, and mine, alone."

"So you _are_ threatening me?" she said then with an amused smile.

I felt something surge up inside me, champing at the bit. Something growing quite ugly and harder to control by the second.

"Don't make any mistake there. I am _not_ threatening you," I said firmly, my eyes boring into her. How had we gotten to this moment so quickly after she had returned, I wondered, in a fleeting thought? I was aware of hushed voices around us, and Pam's voice in my head urging me to just flee the room with her. But the problem was that Salome had another weapon, and she was still thinking about hurting Pam to hurt me. She was confident that there was simply nothing I could do to stop her. And so she decided on continuing to go after Pam. She moved swiftly toward her but I blocked her path.

She was so very wrong in so many ways about so very many things, my internal voice said fleetingly.

With my eyes sliding into even brighter copper, I said in a very firm tone,

"I told you that you will leave her alone."

"Speak to me again that way and I will make your pitiful existence a short one," she said with her eyes flashing.

"I wouldn't be so sure," I said. I felt the strain of reining myself in. The words _Ego sum vas pro vestris viribus_ flitted in through my mind. I tried to push them out of my thoughts._  
_

She stepped closer and hissed,

"You don't believe me? You should. And when you're out of the way, I'll get your children, too. You think I haven't made it my business to know all about them? The charming little fairy girl? The cousin's child who considers you his mommy? I'm sure they will taste all the sweeter for their being yours."

I heard Pam gasp audibly and saw her reach out toward me.

Salome cackled with laughter and as her nails raked across my face, momentarily distracting me, she then sliced at me with the other silver blade in her other hand, but I barely even flinched. How many times in my human life had I been slashed while training or had I cut into my own flesh? It was nothing, _nothing_…

But hearing her threats of harming Bronwyn and Hunter had finally pushed me over the edge. There was, in fact, no edge left. There was only the bottomless well of my previously untapped anger. It was as if she had ripped away the heavy lid covering that unendingly deep well and tempted me to dive deep. I looked at my anger, bubbling so close to the surface, rising up. I hadn't even been angry when I killed Ocella. But I was angry now, and the target for all that unexplored anger was Salome.

"I'm sorry, what did you just say to me? About my children? What was that, Salome?"

She sneered as she said,

"I may even have some fun with them before I drain them dry. Even the little fairy's father won't be able to help them this time… So amusing that Eric will loan you to another man but not to me. What an insult! And they'll pay for the insult, too."

_She threatened_ _my_ _children?_ The words droned in my mind, _Ego sum vas pro vestris viribus__…_ Without even thinking, I uttered them aloud and felt energy make a steady surge through my body.

"Take a good look at me Salome. Because I'm the last thing you're going to see before you die."

She laughed in response not knowing that whatever it was back there in my mind that I'd kept so tightly bound had finally broken free.

And it had no sense of boundaries when it came to using whatever was at its disposal.

**

* * *

**

[This passage is told from Pam's POV]

I had to give Salome credit for having successfully gauged Sookie's vulnerabilities. If there was one thing I had learned in fifteen years time it was that Sookie was not really capable of standing by and allowing something harmful to happen to anyone she loved. The concept of anyone harming people she loved was totally intolerable to her. Salome had calculated that vulnerability masterfully. It was the ultimate way to bait her into a fight, even if she was outmatched. First she'd gone for me, and then, for Hunter and Bronwyn. She'd finally gotten her fight. But what exactly had she really gotten?

As Sookie flew through the air, literally somersaulting over Salome's head, I went cold and felt all my strength drain from me as if siphoned away. Other than the weakness that seemed to completely overwhelm me, all I could feel was my terror that this would spell her final end, my beautiful friend. My almost child.

What match could she _possibly_ be for Salome? I couldn't bear it. Weak as I felt, I tried to move toward them she suddenly pushed me backward, with a positively absurd amount of strength, into the crowd. I hadn't even seen her approach, but smelled her scent, her blood and felt the slender hand push me back. She was so incredibly strong. How could that be?

Stefan had told me many times that she had been trained, as a human, to truly _fight_. He used to watch her with admiration and say that she was absolutely fearless with her trainers. She had trained for years and now, all I could think was that I'd never seen anything like her. She moved so quickly and gracefully, drawing Salome away from me, away from bystanders in the room. Every move was made with utmost confidence and she seemed to instinctively react as if she knew just what Salome would do, and maybe really, she did. But it was more than just the skill in her movement. For a vampire her age, she seemed to have almost impossible speed and strength.

Within seconds all I saw of her were flashes of blonde hair, her black clothes and the occasional blood flying in all directions. Salome was fast as well, but in comparison Sookie was a hardly visible as a blur and she only seemed to get faster. I could barely keep track of where she was because she was so fast. When you _could_ see her, she was almost like a dancer as she dodged blow after blow from Salome and reappeared elsewhere slashing at her. They hissed and snarled almost like cats. Salome kept slashing at her but Sookie seemed unslowed and willing to absorb the blows in an attempt to get closer to Salome.

After less than two minutes, Salome suddenly gave out a terrible shriek of pain and came to a standstill. She bore a long gash across her right thigh, where the femoral artery would be. She was losing a lot of blood, especially from that wound, and healing slowly thanks to the effects of being slashed with the silver blade. Suddenly, another slash appeared on Salome's throat, over the carotid. Sookie was moving so fast I no longer saw her. I saw only slash after slash on Salome, who it appeared was trying unsuccessfully to regather her strength. I realized fear was emerging in the expression on her face. She was still defiant, angry, but afraid, too.

Sookie came to a halt, seeming to tower over Salome, though only a few inches taller. I gasped. She looked positively formidable. There wasn't even a trace of gentleness about her. She was more wild-eyed even that that terrible night she'd risen. With her face as white and hard as ice and her eyes like white hot metal, and fangs down, she drew closer to Salome and growled in a fashion that was so predatory it ran chills up my spine. Plus, she seemed almost unharmed, the obvious gashes on her face and slashes on her sides and arm already healed. She paused staring down at Salome, who seemed to realize that she'd somehow lost whatever advantage she had. To my surprise, instead of just finishing her off, Sookie grabbed Salome by the arm and lifted her off the floor then swung her and released, slamming her into a wall some thirty feet away. Gasps filled the room. She turned and, pocketing her blade, walked toward me, but within seconds Salome flew at her back, with her remaining strength, brandishing her knife.

In one smooth move, as Salome stabbed at her, Sookie sidestepped her, grabbed her by her long hair, and pulled her head backwards, exposing her throat and chest. Removing one of those odd hair sticks holding her hair, she plunged it into Salome's chest as her golden hair spilled around her shoulders in a cascade. Salome screamed horribly and after several spasms began to crumble and scatter like dust.

I turned to see Eric, Andor, Cadel, Markus and Stefan beside me, staring at the scene. They all looked as ashen as I felt. Did I look like that too? Stefan had taken my arm, as if to restrain me, if necessary. But his hold on me felt weak, as he was no stronger than I was. _What had she done to us? _It was like all my strength had been siphoned away. And they looked as if it was the same for them!

Nan Flanagan pressed through a group of bystanders, walked over to her and looked at her silently then glanced down at the pile of crumbling ash. She bent and picked up Salome's dropped silver blade and touched it gingerly against her flesh, hissed and then in one quick stroke picked up Sookie's hand and slashed across it, watching it heal almost instantly.

"You're immune to silver," Nan said, as if awed.

Sookie looked up at her.

"So it would appear." She bent and retrieved her hair stick and murmured something softly that sounded almost like Latin.

Nan reached out and grabbed the stick out of her hand and looked at it, puzzled. Her eyes narrowed and I wondered if she could sense the magic Sookie had wrought into it. She held it up as to offer it back if she received some explanation.

"Ash. From Europe. Keep it as a souvenir, if you like," Sookie said firmly. "A memento of the occasion."

Nan abruptly swiped it at Sookie's shoulder and it disintegrated in her hands. She looked incredulous.

"Or not," Sookie said quietly without even flinching as the stake had been swung at her. Then, she nodded her head. "Nan." She started to walk away.

"There will have to be an inquiry…" Nan said quietly.

Sookie turned around and looked back at her and crossed her arms as if challenging that idea.

"She struck my sire, for whom I bear great love, not once but twice. I gave her chances to leave me, leave _us_, alone. She made threats about my loved ones. She assaulted me with a weapon. And when I walked away, not once, but twice, she still came after me both times. She made her own choices and they were poor ones. She miscalculated. With this number of witnesses, exactly what are you inquiring about?"

Nan stood looking at her, as if still incredulous.

"You're two. She was two _thousand_ years old."

"So I've heard. And I've heard she's been something of a problem for you. So you're most welcome, Nan," she said in a cool tone of voice and wearing a smile that was more than a little unsettling. "Consider it a boon for the great cause of mainstreaming."

Was this what she'd been like when she'd dispatched Ocella, I wondered? So preternaturally calm?

She turned away from Nan Flanagan and walked toward us. Every head in the room followed her in astonishment. As she drew closer, fatigue was evident in her face and she began to look as ashen as the rest of us. I began to realize that my energy and strength had already started to return. It was like high tide coming in. You didn't realize it at first. Slow and smooth. It was most peculiar. She walked past us and Eric turned back to look at Nan, who was still standing stock still, looking stunned. He followed after us. We closed ranks behind her and followed her toward the elevators.

As soon as the elevator doors closed, she sank her face into her hands, looking so much more fragile than she had only minutes before. Eric stood at a distance just staring at her. Finally, Cadel reached out and hugged her to him and then said in a quiet voice.

"Chwaer, what the bloody hell was that?" He looked at around at all of us. "All of you got weak, too? _Really_ weak? Almost as weak as a human? Because _I_ sure did," he said quietly. "And what I saw was someone moving as fast as _I_ do while _I_ felt heavy as lead." He pulled back away from her and looked at her, as she kept her eyes cast down toward the floor. "How the bloody hell did you do that? And _what_ did you do?"

We all stared at her, waiting for her reply, but she didn't answer.

The elevator doors opened on our floor and we moved toward their suite. She waited silently while Eric opened the door with the keycard. She entered and promptly fell to sitting on the couch. Eric followed after her and stood staring at her. We all followed them inside, since Eric didn't seem to care. Her head was bowed, with her hands on her face again. Finally she looked up at Eric. Then she glanced over at me.

"I really need blood. Could you get me a few bottles, please? I'm feeling a bit shaky."

_Shaky?_ I thought to myself. You just granted permanent death to a vampire a thousand times older than you are, in a genuine fight, and you're feeling _shaky_?

**

* * *

**

Now that I had slammed that 'inner me' back in irons, I carefully placed Salome's silver knife on the table and stared at it.

How was I going to explain it to them? Oh, I was in so very, _very_ much trouble. And I'd potentially gotten Eric and Pam in trouble because I was theirs. Maybe, in the end, I was every bit as bad as Andor feared I was….

They started talking at once between themselves, all except for Eric, who just stood staring at me. Pam brought me two bottles of warmed True Blood and gave me this totally perplexed look. She examined the slashes in my clothes and looked concerned. Even if I'd healed quickly, I'd still lost a fair amount of blood.

"You should have more when you're done with these," she said softly. "There's dried blood everywhere. And you should shower and change. Are you… okay, Sookie?"

"I had to get really close to cut her femoral and carotid arteries. You have take blows to do that." I shook my head, thinking about what I'd done. I sighed, shaking my head. "In the end, no matter how angry and out of control I thought I was, _I didn't want to be_ _like her. _I just wanted… to give her one final chance, you know? I should have known she wouldn't take it. But I didn't want to be anything like her at all. I can't do this stuff ever again,_"_ I murmured mostly to myself. "It's everything I didn't want to be."

Eric turned to Cadel and said,

"Sweep the room, just to be on the safe side."

After a few moments of looking around at lightning fast speed, Cadel stood in the semi-circle around me and nodded to Eric.

Eric towered over me and managed to command my attention even though I really didn't want to look up at him.

"You're going to tell us _exactly_ what you did, and _how_ you did it, right now," Eric said, sounding deadly serious. "No leaving out details or sugar-coating it. I want do know exactly what is going on."

I met his eyes as I finished the first bottle.

"It was magic," I said softly. "Bloodmagic."

"What _exactly_ does that mean?" he said looking at me icily.

"I've had all your blood. So… I used it."

I felt this jolt of alarm from Eric, then he suddenly welled up with anger and his jaw went tense. I felt the wave of suspicion from him as his eyes traced over the others.

"No," I said quickly, "you don't understand, Eric. From the tattoos. From back when I did the tattoos for the silver protection. That was alchemy, true magic… remember? Well, for magic there is always _reciprocity_. I gave you the protection, and it's permanent. But each of you had to give me something in return. You all bled when I did them and in that blood you gave me there was an exchange, wrought with the ink. Resistance to silver in exchange for letting me draw, only if needed, on your strength. After all, I'm only what, two years old? It was a fair exchange. Really in your favor. You're _always immune_ to silver and I've only used this the one time, when I really needed to, and only for about three minutes. _Ego sum vas pro vestris viribus__…_ I am the vessel for your strength. It was bloodmagic."

They all stood looking at me as if dumbstruck. Pam was just open-mouthed and then she closed her eyes and looked away.

"_What _have you done?" Eric said angrily.

Cadel looked at me shaking his head, as if shocked.

"Well, you really are worse than I'd ever have credited, aren't you? I'd never have taken you for a thief," he said.

I looked over at Cadel.

"But I'm not a thief. Magic isn't for _free_, Cadel. It can't be. There are rules and I had no choice in the matter. Especially not with alchemical magic. There _has_ to be reciprocity. Some equal and opposite reaction or process. I already gave my own blood, and plenty of it, just for the means to make myself and therefore all of you immune to silver. This was as benign a way as I could come up with, that met the demands of what was given, of what I conferred on you. I can borrow. Not steal. _Borrow._"

"Explain it _clearly_," said Eric, his voice filled with tension and anger. He jaw worked as he stared down at me, with eyes sparking in anger. I flinched under his gaze.

"When I need to, I can draw on all your strengths. Even Hunter's. It was spelled into the ink and the blood raised by the tattooing process was absorbed into my skin as I brushed it away. My magic, your blood. The draw from each of you is physical. And clearly additive, which I guess I hadn't even really thought about before."

"_Additive_?" asked Andor, who looked down at me with crossed arms. He looked so very, very angry.

"Additive. What's the total of all your ages? Well over three thousand years, right?" I turned to look at Pam and said, "I might have been trained to fight, but she was a 2000 year old vampire, Pam. The only way to win against her in a fight was to be older, stronger and faster. Especially if we each had a weapon."

"And what happens if you get killed? What happens to _us_ then?" Andor asked, looking grim.

"_Nothing_, Andor. I'm just the vessel, channeling all the energy. If I die in the process of using whatever is loaned, it goes right back to you, just as it did earlier, if that's what you're worried about. It's _yours_. Like I said, it's borrowing. Not _theft_. I wouldn't have done anything that would have put any of you at risk of harm. If anything, what I did protected you. I defended myself, and Pam, but in a way that prevented any of you from being injured or killed by fighting her individually. She attacked me, twice, so it was a wholly justified act of self-defense. Isn't that what you always tell me when _you_ do it?" I asked looking from Andor to Eric. "Wasn't it what you two call a fair fight?"

Cadel was still looking at me as if completely shocked by the entire thing.

"I trusted you. I _completely_ trusted you. I bloody can't believe it! I can't believe _you_."

"Oh, give me a break, Cadel! Like you shouldn't trust me? I've taken _bullets_ for you! I spent more than a year recovering from it, too. I've risked my life so many times for you, or Eric, or for all of us. Don't even get me started that you can't trust me or my motives. That's just insulting! You know… _all_ of you know, that I'm not ever going to do anything to harm anyone in this room. I'd harm myself before I'd harm you and I _have_. So just give me a flipping break and think before you try to judge me."

Cadel looked down and then away, muttering under his breath in Welsh.

Eric turned abruptly and walked away. He sat down on the couch on the opposite side of the room and with his elbow propped up on its arm, he put his hand to his mouth and studied me. I was still so muzzy from the whole business that I couldn't even get a fix on his thoughts other than anger. I really thought it was the angriest he'd ever been at me. Ever.

"This was incredibly dangerous," Eric said finally. "People will assume that you can do this again and it leaves all of us vulnerable to an extreme. If _you_ fight that way, it leaves us with _nothing,_ Sookie."

I finished my second bottle, paused and then said,

"Or maybe it was incredibly useful. Because if they think I _can_ do it again, it means that anyone would be hard pressed to think they could win in a fight with you, Andor _and _me. So perhaps it is useful. Especially since Nan witnessed it. They'll all think twice, won't they?"

He snorted.

"You're incredibly naïve. She won't let it go until she knows _how_ you did this, Sookie. Nan seeing it was the worst possible part of it! It's left things open for her finding out exactly what you can do and what you are. This could be a complete disaster."

"Then if she comes questioning, I'll _glamour her_," I said with a smile, leaning forward and talking directly to Eric.

"You don't even know what you're doing. It's like going from one fucking disaster to another with you. You will _not_ glamour Nan Flanagan. At least without my knowledge, input and approval you won't," he growled, looking at me angrily. "You're being unbelievably reckless and now you're putting _all_ of us in the position of paying the price for it!"

I rose from my seat and looked across the room at him.

"What was I supposed to do, Eric? Let Salome harm Pam if I knew I could prevent it? Harm you? Me? Any of us? Where do you expect me to draw the line? She threw a silver blade directly into my chest. If I hadn't been protected against the silver that alone would likely have killed me. She threatened Hunter and Bronwyn. She knew all about them. What the fuck do you want from me? Exactly how does it benefit any of us if I pretend I'm some fragile little mouse? Because I'm not seeing it, frankly. You all said you wanted me to stay. You," I looked directly at Eric, "said you wanted it more than anything. You all insisted that I should learn to accept what I was? Well, guess what? Maybe _you_ need to do some accepting. What I _am_ is not what any of you thought. I've spent years around witches and I learned quite a bit from them," I said looking up at Andor who towered above me. Then, I looked back at Eric. "You all wanted me to adjust and 'be happy' and stay? Love it or hate it, _this_ is what you said you wanted- the real me. Am I doing witchcraft or magic? Yes, occasionally, I really am. And when did you ever see me back down in my human life if someone attacked me or threatened anyone I loved? Why are you so surprised now? Who killed your damn sire for you? This is the _only_ way I know how to be. And newsflash… I never wanted to be this way at all. This isn't what you wanted me to be like? You all think you're stuck with me? Well, you've got no idea how stuck _I_ still feel every single night I rise from my bed. If you all don't like it, I'll be perfectly happy finding my final rest in my own garden, facing east, around 7 am. I'm done with pretending that everything is fine. I love you Eric, more than anything and more evidently, than I did my own life. But if I'm as much a risk to all of you as Andor seems to think I am, then maybe it's better for everyone to just let me go. Because I've noticed he's seldom wrong when it comes to keeping you and everyone else here safe. Maybe it's important to know when to give up."

I walked past them where they stood silent and speechless, and past where Eric looked equally caught off-guard. I went into the bedroom, quietly closing the door behind me. Then I went into the bathroom, stripped out of my slashed clothes and started the shower. I pinned up my hair again. I stared at myself in the mirror. I was covered with dried blood from many slashes that had healed quickly, in spite of the silver knife with which she attacked me. I stepped into the shower and let the warm water flow over me. As I watched the dark red trails wash down into the drain, all I could think of was that I craved the warmth of the _sun _on my skin. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine the warmth flowing over me was from sunshine.

_I hate being like this_, I thought to myself.

I felt like I hated what I was and missed what I couldn't be, or have any more. And I was so very tired of feeling that way. Maybe the protection against silver had been a mistake. If not for them, _for me_. Bert and Eric could have kept Bronwyn and Hunter safe. If I hadn't had the damn tattoo I would have finally died I thought to myself, ruefully. I would have finally died, found my peace and maybe then she would have finally been punished. And I wouldn't be in trouble. With the AVL, with Eric and the others, and most of all, in trouble with myself. I hated what I was becoming- some vampire who just killed things? I was becoming everything I hated. Maybe I already was what I hated. Just some angry, violent predator… It wasn't me. Or rather, it wasn't supposed to be me. So maybe I had finally lost myself. And I was just… weary.

What a disaster, I thought. I should have given them the gift of resistance and then taken back my own in some way. The outcome would have been so much better.

Instead, what had I done? I'd put them all at risk because of me. It was everything I hadn't wanted. What a mistake it had all been…

**

* * *

**

With a soft hissing, he tried to pry the glass out of my bloodied fingers. I hadn't even heard or felt him coming. There was only the pain, the sound of sawing into flesh and the sound of the water from the showerhead. I finally heard his voice, so oddly modulated, saying,

"Let go of it, let go, Sookie. Give me it to me," followed by muttering in Norse, yet still sounding very gentle to me. "You need to give me the piece of glass," he said in a strained voice, in English. He tried to loosen my fingers hold on it. "Let go of the glass," he reiterated firmly.

He finally gripped my wrist so hard I thought he would break it. My grip on the sharp fragment of glass loosened. I looked up at him then down at my hip, where I'd cut off the tattoo with the jagged piece of glass, by partly gouging it out of, then sawing it off my hip. The ashen lump of flesh lay, disintegrating near the drain. But then I'd rapidly stabbed myself up and down my left thigh with the large fragment from the broken drinking glass before he'd come in. Once I had started gouging out the tattoo I had been unable to stop slicing, cutting, stabbing… I was still in the fog of the pain, waiting for my mind to clear, waiting for less anger, less self-loathing, less _feeling_. But anger had always been so much harder to tame than desire. I wanted to cut myself more... more. I wanted to… He tossed the piece of glass away into the bathroom sink and the sound of it shattering further startled me. I swayed. I felt dizzy. Which was absurd, considering I was a vampire. Then I realized he'd been pulling on me, pulling on my _mind_, in addition to pulling on the glass in my hand. His face showed immense strain because it had been so hard. He caught me, firmly, in his arms as I started to collapse, weak from the loss of blood and his attempt to glamour me into submission. I looked at the blood flowing down my hip and thigh, trailing into the bottom of the shower and down into the drain.

A noise in the doorway distracted me and I glanced in that direction to see Pam, her hand over her mouth, eyes wide, pink tears rolling down her face. The door into the bathroom was broken. There were others behind her, alarmed faces looking in. Cadel's face pale and shocked. Eric rinsed my fingers in the stream of water and watched them heal where they'd been cut by the edges of the glass fragment. He lifted me, letting the water rinse over my thigh as the flesh resealed. The gash where I'd taken off the tattoo was deeper and slower to heal. I looked up from it, to his face, which was pained as he looked at what I'd done to myself. I looked back down at the water, still washing the dark red blood into the drain. My blood. His blood in me. Blood spatters clung all over the walls of the shower stall.

I started to cry.

I had broken my word.

He carried me out of the shower and, grabbing a towel to cover me, walked out of the bathroom, past Pam, Cadel, Andor, Stefan and Markus who were near the door. He put me on the bed and said to the others,

"Leave us. Pam, bring several more bottles of blood in here."

He peeled the towel back from my hip and swallowed drily as he looked at the wound. It still wasn't fully healed. I had gouged deep with the broken glass, literally carving out flesh down to bone and sinew. He sliced his index and middle fingers on a fang and then, hand shaking ever so slightly, he let his blood flow onto the wound. The tissue began to mist over and swirl and I was horrified to see that it was slowly reforming with the tattoo still in place. I let out a whimper. I'd have to find some other way to get it off me. Maybe burning or… certainly Mattias would know to break the spell. It had stuck too well… I had done it all too well…

"_NO!_ No," he said more calmly the second time, as if clearly seeing exactly where my mind was. "It's fine. It protected you. A good bit of magic that it can't be removed easily. It's much safer that way." His voice sounded uneven. He was quite worried about what I might try next to get rid of it.

Pam came back in with the bottles, looking quite shaken. She put them down on the nightstand and stood there for a moment looking at me. I couldn't even meet her eyes. After a few moments she silently left the room.

Eric ran his hand over the now smooth flesh on my thigh, soothingly.

"I love you as you are. But I'm frightened for you. You are being reckless. Perhaps I should not have left the two of you alone, knowing that she was here." He hesitated then said. "I know I was very angry, but we said we would try to talk things out, Sookie. If you are angry, with yourself, or with me, we _talk_. Talking, even if we argue and are angry, is much better than doing _this_," he said stroking his finger across my hip, where the skin was now almost smooth again and the tattoo looked slightly iridescent, just as it had when I'd first done it. Then he reached over and uncapped the bottle and handed it to me, without even looking at me. "Drink, min älskade. Drink."

He rose and went back into the bathroom. I heard him turn on the shower again, and heard the rhythmic swooshes of water as he washed away my blood. He turned off the water. He did not reemerge from the bathroom and I couldn't feel anything from him at all. It was almost like there was an empty space there between us. A silent gulf.

In spite of the fact that it was still relatively early in the night, I fell into my thankfully dreamless sleep after obediently drinking the two bottles of blood.

I opened my eyes as the sun set the following evening. He was naked in the bed next to me, not even covered by the sheet, and propped up on one elbow, staring down at me, with his hand over my heart. Once he saw I was alert, he turned, reached over and gave me a bottle of TrueBlood. I sat up to drink hungrily. I'd had only six bottles the night before, a fortune in TrueBlood actually, but I had lost so much blood I could have easily had another two or three. I was famished.

He looked at me soberly.

"I cannot envision my life without you in it," he said simply. "So I want you to stop asking me to and start _listening_ to me."

"I am listening. Or trying to listen. But I cannot envision a life with you in which I cannot be myself," I whispered. "What would be the point of it, anyway? If I'm going to stop being _me_ then there is no point in any of this. In fact, I'm already feeling like it's kind of pointless. All I do is created worry. Worry and strife."

His thumb stroked my pelvis.

"No one is asking you to stop being you. And you haven't stopped being you, as evidenced by the fact that we're back to your putting yourself in harm's way. But, no matter what we do, our world is a dangerous place, Sookie. The problem is that I don't think you understand how dangerous what you did really is. You are attracting attention that is dangerous. To all of us, but especially to you. You need to be yourself in a safer fashion. It took you time to learn how to do that as a human but we have very little time for you to learn it now. There is little margin for error. You are in a very public role and everyone is very interested in what they just saw. There have been questions about how you could be resistant to silver, how you did what you did, who you are really, and even about your connection to the fairies, if you can believe that. It was dangerous and… while I think we all understand your intent, it was duplicitous."

"I know that Eric. I know. And…" My voice trailed off.

"And?"

"I should have told you," I said softly. "I should have told you about the tattoos and what they could do. I should have told at least _you_, if not _all_ of you. I was just afraid that some of you would refuse and I wanted all of you to be protected because you all have always protected me. I can't see Andor having said it was fine, for instance. He got shot for me. He loves and protects you. He's protected me for you. I wanted to protect _him._ Even if he didn't want it, even if he would never want to owe me anything. This was something that I wanted to do to protect all of you. And to better protect someone who also really loves you that I want to be safe to take care of you. But I lied by omission. I should have told you."

"Yes. Yes, you should have."

I buried my face in his chest. I felt ashamed, worn down, so very weary. And I'd only just awakened.

"I'm so tired, Eric. I'm so very tired. I feel like just giving up," I whispered, my voice quite choked. "I can't do this. I just _can't_."

"You need to let me take care of you for a while Sookie, instead of this continual battle you're waging with yourself. You aren't winning. In fact, I'd have to say looking at how you were last night, maybe you're losing," he said. His voice was so serious, so quiet and calm. "We had eight relatively peaceful years in which you finally let me take charge of things. Maybe you should just trust me enough to do that again. Maybe that's why sires should be able to compel their children. Maybe it's the only way to keep them safe and healthy. I _want_ to take care of you. You need to let me before things spin out of control. Let me deal with Nan. She's not going anywhere near you. Just let me handle things for a while."

I nodded against his chest and then started crying softly.

There was an abrupt knock on the door. I pulled the sheets up over my breasts just as Andor opened the door. Without stepping, or even looking, inside, he announced in a serious voice,

"She's been summoned. The Pythoness has summoned her. She arrived about an hour ago according to Cadel. Her people have asked for Sookie to come immediately." He paused, and before Eric could come up with a response, he said soberly, "I will accompany you both."

I thought it was odd that he sounded worried for me. Then I realized that he'd heard most of what I'd said. But I guessed he was also worried for Eric and Pam who were supposedly responsible for me.

So now I'd find out exactly what I'd done to all of us. I'd find out if there was a price for being as Salome was- a vampire witch- without all the cache of being as old as she was. And I'd find out just how good a seer the Pythia of Delphi really was. Did she know what I was _really_? Could she see what I could do beyond some clever bit of magic? Because the penalty for the other stuff, the glamouring especially, was probably a whole lot worse than getting told to cut out the witchcraft.

When I finally stood alone before her, dressed all in black, hair down, no makeup and three bottles of blood down on the night but still feeling kind of weak, I tried not to be afraid.

She was dissatisfied with my explanation, which was extremely evasive. Although, I really had to say that she seemed to be completely uncaring about Salome's demise. No, her problem was really with _me_, I realized. That sent something of a chill up my spine. I was afraid to try to read her. Afraid she would, in return, get a sense for my real skill set, on the outside chance that she didn't already have that sense. Afraid that maybe Eric was right and that I had finally done something… too dangerous.

"I'm sorry if my explanation doesn't cut it or if I displease you," I said quietly, in response to her, with head down, submissively looking at the floor and her feet. Even though she was ancient and blind I felt as if she could still _see_ me.

She snorted her reply.

"Displeasure? _Dis_pleasure? I don't know who or what you think you are but displeasure is hardly what I'd call it."

I glanced up at her, puzzled. What did she mean?

In a swirl of hot wind, a man suddenly seemed to emerge from the wall. He was a bit more than six feet tall and had black hair that fell in many long narrow braids, as if corn-rowed, to just below his shoulders. His skin color was a light amber as were his eyes. He wore simple clothes that looked like linen and a set of thick bracelets that looked as if they were made of silver. I'd seen something similar to them before, long ago. But I couldn't quite focus to place them, because I'd felt this incredible jolt of energy and power when he entered the room distracting me from almost everything. Even the Pythoness seemed to lean back, away from the wave of his energy.

"You have come then," the Pythoness said, quietly, glancing toward his direction with her unseeing eyes. She seemed, somehow, to have grown even smaller in his presence. "I knew this one would capture your interests."

"I wish to see what else she can do."

He moved closer until he stood right in front of me. He crossed his arms and stared down at me with such an intense focus that I actually looked away and felt myself tremble inside. What _was_ he? He looked and smelled like a vampire but the energy that poured off him was just incredible. What kind of vampire walked through walls, I wondered?

"Where is it?" he said, in a commanding voice as he stepped closer to me. "Show it to me."

What was he talking about? I looked up again at his golden eyes and then, in avoiding them because they unsettled me, my eyes slowly dropped down a bit lower and took in the copper markings that were partially visible on his chest. I drew a long and deep breath, even though I was two years dead. I looked back up at the now flame-like orange glow in his eyes.

"Naram-Shari?" I asked, softly.


	10. Chapter 10

**X.**

Staring into the eyes of someone who was more than 4,000 years old was rather extraordinary. In looking at him, I could only say that he was so far removed from being human, and even from being a regular vampire, that it simply took your breath away, whether you breathed or not. He was… beyond everything and everyone I knew or had seen who was vampire. I did not think even for a minute that he had _ever_ been human. And he was _much_ more ancient than four thousand years old, I somehow knew. He wasn't Sumerian, whatever Ocella had been told or believed. He was something… else.

He looked ever so slightly disconcerted.

"You know my name?"

"I know your tattoo. It was described to me by a Roman Legionnaire vampire. He met you around 150 B.C."

"Ah, _that_ one. And you have met him?"

"Met him and killed him. I have seen it," spat the Pythoness. "If she's culling the tribe, she's certainly doing a good job on selecting which to take. _Thus far_."

I had been too focused on Naram-Shari to pay much attention to the Pythoness. At the moment she seemed like the least of my problems since she was like a match lit next to a blowtorch when compared to the man in front of me. But as the fact that she knew I'd killed Ocella sank in, I was more than a little unsettled. It didn't seem to bother either of them in the least that I had killed Ocella, however, which was so puzzling. I didn't know what to make of either of them but especially not him. He was clearly sort of like a vampire and yet, so very ancient and powerful. The energy I felt from him wasn't vampire-like. It was something else. I couldn't quite read his thoughts, because I was sort of afraid to try to. I was afraid the Pythoness would sense it, or maybe he would himself. From the little I could feel, his thought patterns were unlike anything that I'd ever encountered and bore only a slight similarity to that of a vampire's. His whole energy was raw, like a force of nature or something. Then, suddenly, it hit me.

"You're a _shedu_. One of the original _shedu_," I whispered.

It wasn't even a question.

He stared, expressionless, at me.

"I am _shedu_. But what do you know of this? _How_ do you know of this?"

"I have read about the _shedu_. They were the guardians of the gods."

He looked at me with eyes that were like burning flames. They were so frightening that a chill ran up my spine. Eyes that said I was the merest speck of dust compared to him. I found myself fingering my talisman for comfort. I was simultaneously intrigued and very, _very_ afraid.

"We _are_ the guardians of the gods."

At this, he grabbed my shirt, pulling it up and tugged the waistband on my slacks down from my left hip and examined my tattoo. He'd even known where I put it? Was he in fact reading _my_ thoughts? He studied it and made a "hmm" sound as if surprised.

"This is different from mine," he said, almost to himself.

"Mine is from the later forms of the glyphs. Yours is… the original form of them. It was my model for this one. I changed it a bit, though."

He looked at me and slowly a smile crossed his lips.

"So you did. Very clever. You have done this with the others in your line?" he asked. "She will not hear us," he said, when he felt my sense of alarm, after waving his hand through the air. The Pythoness appeared to be in a sort of suspended animation as did the guardians in the room with her.

"Yes," I said quietly. "Just my family." How did he know?

He ran his finger over the tattoo and I felt the magic in it sizzle. I flinched at his touch, which was warmer than a vampire's. He really frightened me. But not enough so that I wouldn't ask him what was now foremost in my mind.

"If you are a _shedu_, then perhaps you know the truth about the sunlight."

"The sunlight?" He looked puzzled as he leaned back to look me in the eyes.

"Was it also a curse? A curse like the silver was?"

He looked almost sadly at me, as if understanding something more than what I asked.

"It is magic. But it is not a curse, little one. We are meant to be of the night. We serve Ereshkigal. She _is _the night. There maybe magic to offset it, but we were meant to be this way. The night, the moon and stars. These are ours. They are hers and she gave them to me, to give to you. I am your original creator. I made the first vampires."

I suddenly felt crestfallen.

"So it was not a punishment?" I whispered.

"Punishment? It is our _gift_. The night, the moon and the stars… We were not _born_ cursed. Our actions as Lilitu made us a cursed race. But this undoes that curse. Does it not?" he said, as he stroked across his own tattoo. "It has, even on you. What matter if we see only the moon and stars? They are beautiful. They remind us of our origins. They came here, as did the Fae, as did so many others. Our origin is elsewhere."

I looked down and said softly,

"So there is no remedy for it then… no easy fix, the way there is for the silver?"

"Easy? This," he said pointing to my hip, "was not an easy thing. Few have done this on their own. As for the sunlight? We are borne of magic. There is always other magic. You need only to look for it. But what does the sunshine matter? How is it different from the moonlight? Most own both and most waste some of them both. We waste nothing of our night. And for you… for _us_… the question is whether it would upset the balance here to change things further. If we take the daylight back, what would we do with it? We have done much that is wrong with the night." He paused as he turned toward the door, then back to me. He looked me in the eyes and said, "_You_ are dangerous? You are so fragile, so young and yet you are considered _dangerous_?" he said in an amused tone as he turned sharply toward the door to the suite. He planted himself somewhat in front of me and glanced over at the Pythoness, releasing her. "These modern ones are still too often little better than fools," he remarked bitterly.

Abruptly, the door he faced opened and Nan Flanagan entered, followed by Eric, who shoved one of the guards at the door out of his way. Andor hovered in the doorway behind him, holding onto one of the guards. The Pythoness signaled that it was fine and Andor released him.

Naram-Shari stared at them, and he seemed to hold me fast somehow. I felt like I couldn't move and I probably couldn't even speak. I felt a shiver run up my spine. I'd never felt, even with contact with Niall, or with Bert and Branwen, anything that felt like him. He unsettled me very deeply. Because I was certain he was in my head or something.

"There's something wrong with her, something _rogue_ about her," said Nan Flanagan to the Pythoness as she'd burst into the room. "I don't care what Northman says. He's obviously not unbiased. She's a danger to us!"

It was almost like she didn't even see Naram-Shari at first. Eric did, however, and right away. He had started to reply to Nan's comment but stopped in his tracks when he saw him. I had a sense that he felt Naram-Shari controlling me. He looked cautiously at Naram–Shari, then his eyes rested on me as if clearly sensing something was different and very wrong. I felt almost as if he reached out to me mentally and ran into a glass door or an invisible barrier. He looked quite unsettled by it.

"She's dangerous and a risk to all of us," continued Nan. "If Northman and his child can't control her then we're going to have to get rid of her. I can't have someone in her position, practically the Queen of a state, running rogue and killing 2,000 year old vampires as if it's nothing. Who knows what else she can do if she can do that? And Northman won't even let me near her to find out. If I can't question her, I'm getting rid of her."

As I opened my mouth slightly, as if to speak, Naram-Shari seemed to grab onto me mentally and the next thing I knew he was behind me, with a knife at my throat. I saw Eric's eyes go wide and Andor, in the doorway behind him, was also wide-eyed.

"So this little one is a threat to you, and to all of us?" he said with the knife at my throat.

Nan turned and really _saw_ him, sensing the power from him, and froze. Her eyes went wide with fear and she actually blanched.

"I think _not_," he said in a dark tone.

Before I could even react, he flipped the sharp edge of the knife away from my throat and sliced open his wrist then pressed it against my mouth. Eric lunged at him but Naram-Shari swiped his free hand, the one with the knife, through the air and Eric was repelled, as if tossed aside by an invisible force. I cried out but Naram-Shari only took the opportunity to force his wrist into my mouth. I almost automatically locked my fangs onto it, as I tasted blood unlike anything I'd ever tasted. After several more moments, I felt my jaw release and in one clean move, he swept it from my mouth to the back of my head. Then, pushing my head to my shoulder, he spoke words in a language unknown to me, ending in the phrase,

"In the name of Ereshkigal, _I bind you_," and sank his teeth deep into my neck. I cried out and instantly felt as if I had been caught in some invisible net, an even stronger hold on me than I'd felt before. I was unable to move, to escape as he drew deeply of my blood and bound me to him.

I watched helplessly, as Eric threw back his head and roared in anger.

**

* * *

**

Tears streamed down my face by the time he released his bite hold on my neck. Not from the pain of the bite, but what I felt he had done with it. I'd felt a surge of energy flow through me having had his blood. But this? It was like being plugged into a high voltage electrical socket. My teeth literally chattered for a moment. I felt energy funnel through me and it left my head throbbing and my ears ringing.

Meanwhile, as I looked over at him, I could _see_ that Eric was filled with fury but I felt him almost as if he was muted. It was like someone had turned the volume way, way down. All I felt and all I heard in my mind was Naram-Shari. Eric started to speak but Naram-Shari, pushed him backwards with another swipe of his hand through the air. Andor pulled him to standing.

With his forearm wrapped around my neck and grasping my shoulder in his hand, Naram-Shari turned us to face Nan and said in a voice seething with menace,

"She is bound to me. Harm her, and I will destroy you. Slowly and with much suffering."

Nan now looked riveted, and… very afraid. I couldn't see his face, since he was behind me, but clearly, he wasn't looking like he had before since she was even more frightened than she had been when she first saw him.

"What _are_ you?"

"I am _shedu._ I am your creator and your destroyer. Cross me and I will be your interminably painful final death. You will beg me to end your suffering, if you disobey," he hissed. He turned to the Pythoness and said, "She is _mine_ and under our protection."

"Our?" queried the Pythoness, tilting her head at a slight angle.

"_Our_."

Stepping from the shadows was a petite woman with dark, finely braided hair, kohl rimmed brown eyes and a soft and carefully draped white dress.

"She belongs to Nanshe," she said, to farther clarify.

What the hell? There was just _way_ too much claiming of me going around for my liking. There was only one person in the room who I belonged to and he was the one getting slapped around, much to my worry. Meanwhile, I hadn't felt so incapable of moving since I'd been caught by Neave and Lochlan fifteen years before. And this was even worse, actually, because he _was_ _in my head_. Part of me was terrified and part of me just wanted to fight. Gritting my teeth against the discomfort of the vise-like grip on my mind, I still managed to choke out,

"_I belong to_ _Eric_." My head throbbed as I spoke.

Naram-Shari released his physical hold on me just slightly and putting his knife back at his waist, turned my face to his, and looked down at me with great amusement. He smiled, fangs still down, traces of my blood still on his lips. He glanced over at the woman and said, chuckling,

"She tries to resist me! She is as Nanshe has said. And," he licked his lips, "so delicious, even cold. You are lucky he was so old or he would have likely drained you long ago, before you were made, little one," he murmured close to my ear, nodding toward Eric.

Eric snarled and Andor grabbed onto him.

"Be _silent_," barked the woman, at Eric.

"She is _mine_," Eric bellowed angrily. "By law and by blood!"

Andor murmured something to Eric in a low voice in Norse, I couldn't make out what it was. Urging him to be careful, no doubt. He'd held Eric by his arm from behind but now stepped to his side.

"No, Viking, _now_ she is claimed by Nanshe," insisted the woman.

Gritting my teeth, I struggled to get out the words,

"Who the hell is Nanshe? What does _Nanshe_ want with me?"

The woman hissed and bared her fangs at me and Andor gave me a warning look that seemed to say that I was _not_ helping our situation.

"The goddess Nanshe is known by many names. She is a goddess of the sea, justice, prophecy, fertility. She claims you, mother of her blood."

She didn't exactly look as if she thought I was worthy of the claim, from the expression on her face. My brain scrambled, trying to process the information. _Mother of her blood_? What the hell did that mean?

"Who are you and where are you from," I asked the woman, continuing to struggle to speak. My head just hurt so much. "What right do you have to go claiming me for _anyone _apart from my husband?"

I felt this further stirring of pleasure from Naram-Shari. His arm still around my neck and shoulders, he dropped his head forward in laughter. I felt genuine amusement from him. He seemed to release something in my mind, easing it up just a bit and the pain in my head lessened.

"I am Ninshabur of Ur, the Lady of Evening. I serve Nanshe, daughter of Enki, and her sisters, Inanna and Ereshkigal. I claim you for Nanshe because you _are_ hers and because Naram has bound you to protect you."

Because I _am_ hers_? _Like it had already been a done deal or something? Then, suddenly, something in my mind clicked. I had read a little about Ur in Mattias's library. Enki, one of the primordial beings or original seven 'gods', was the Sumerian god of the sea. Nanshe was the sea god's daughter… '_The goddess Nanshe is known by many names...'_ Long ago, I'd heard Bertram Gower saying to Salome, '_I am descended from the likes of which walked this earth long before your kind was even known…_' The Sumerian legends said these primordial gods, who'd come from who knows where, had created the _shedu_ as their guardians here on earth, from the four elements. Vampires were the descendants of the night _shedu_. Perhaps Llŷr was just the Welsh representation of this primordial god of the sea, which meant his daughter would be…

"Branwen?" I asked, breathlessly, feeling the talisman resting heavily on my chest.

"Her other names are of no importance and reflect only where she currently chooses to inhabit verdant lands. Nanshe claims this one as hers and has for some time. To harm her, or even to harm any of her interests," and here she glanced over briefly at Eric and Andor, "is _punishable_. This is my decree and you will long remember it," she said, finally resting her eyes specifically on Nan Flanagan. As she spoke to Nan she bared razor-like teeth, and her eyes illuminated in blue flames that filled the entire orb of her eyes, obscuring even the whites of her eyes. They were just… flames.

Though her threat sounded kind of vague, her eyes, those teeth and something in the way it was issued made it seem truly fearsome. Maybe even worse than the feeling I'd gotten from Naram-Shari. I didn't think she'd even have trouble eating dead people, frankly… Her energy was very different from that of the man behind me.

Ninshabur turned to Eric and Andor and said, in an only slightly less warning tone,

"You will not interfere with us. She will not be harmed."

"We are finished here," Naram-Shari said. Then, shifting his arm to my waist, he drew me toward the other door in the suite, with Ninshabur following close after. But I didn't want to go anywhere with them! I tried to struggle against him but his grip on my mind, let alone my body, was just too strong. As I struggled, briefly crying out crossing the threshold into the other room, I just managed to glance back at Eric and felt a jolt of panic as I took in the look on his face.

It was the first time I'd ever seen Eric truly afraid.

He was afraid for _me._

He lunged at the door as it closed and Naram-Shari turned back toward it with a very dark look, his eyes bursting fully into flames just as hers had. I heard Andor struggling, arguing with Eric on the other side.

I grabbed onto his arm and looked Naram-Shari in his fierce eyes.

"No! I'll do whatever you want, go wherever you want. Just don't hurt him. Please. Leave them alone, both of them. _Please_… _Don't hurt them_."

Ninshabur snapped her fingers to garner his attention and the air swirled around us, smelling of smoke and salty sea air. He wrapped his arms around me and, just as Eric kicked open the door, we disappeared in a swirl of sea-swept wind and fire.


	11. Chapter 11

**XI.**

_Standing in the vast emptiness, he regarded Eric with eyes completely filled with roiling orange flames. Eric stood staring back at him, unflinching. He turned back to me and put his hands at my temples, his thumbs pressed together on the center of my forehead. He spoke words I did not understand but I felt this great internal shift as if I had more room inside my own mind. He met my eyes with his own flame-lit ones._

"_You are free to choose. You may come with Ninshabur and me and return to Inanna, Ereskigal and Nanshe, or you may stay, bound to him as you were."_

_Eric started to open his mouth and Naram-Shari, fangs bared, warned him, "_She_ must choose. Not you. You have already chosen your path."_

_Without hesitation, I reached out for Eric and Naram-Shari grabbed my wrist. He withdrew his knife from its scabbard._

"_Give me your hand," he said to Eric._

_Suddenly I started having horrible flashes in my mind, of Eric losing his hand years before. The last memory I'd held close, the one rooted so deeply in shame. I thought of all that I had cost Eric, that my beloved had been so horribly punished because of me and I had abandoned him, without knowing what I'd cost him. It was the greatest shame and sorrow of my life. I began to twist in his mental grip like a kite caught on a power line. I whimpered and closed my eyes as I felt the full sensation of that memory and I had not even seen the actual event. Yet still it felt as if I was seared in flames at the thought of his losing his hand because of me. Naram-Shari turned back to me and, releasing my wrist, placed his hand on my forehead and I suddenly felt… contained and safe once again. He whispered something to me and I felt a release. The memory floated out to a different place in my mind, like a feather, and then was suspended at a safe distance. I could see it clearly, even touch it, but it would no longer harm me, even if I saw how it made me feel. It was mine but it did not harm me.  
_

"Finally_," he remarked to me almost wearily._

_Then he turned back to Eric._

"_Your hand."_

_Eric, without any hesitation, extended his right hand._

"_The other hand," he said to Eric, in that icy voice._

_Eric withdrew his right hand and offered his left in its place. _

"_You will protect her, for us" he said to Eric. "In return, she will protect you, through me." Naram-Shari turned to me and said simply, "I release you." Then, like lightning striking twice, he scored deeply into first Eric's and then my hand, and pressed our hands together. "You are bound in blood, each to the other, in the name of Ereshkigal, for all eternity." The flames of Naram-Shari's eyes intensified and soon he appeared to be entirely composed of fire and swirling wind, and then, in the blink of my eyes, he was gone._

_Eric's fingers closed around my hand._

_I looked up at his eyes, which shone. He touched my face gently and I leaned forward against him._

"_This was, I think, the longest month of my existence," he murmured, with his lips against my head as his arms enclosed me, making me feel so safe. I had the impression that he spoke in Norse and yet I still understood his meaning. Then I was aware that it was actually a thought, not spoken word. And then I realized I could see inside him. He was… so beautiful. So strong and so good-hearted. Then I took in his words._

_A _month_? I pulled back in shock and asked, "But how long have I been gone, really? What night is this?"_

_There was no answer. We were not even really awake. _

'_Rest,' came Naram-Shari's voice, like a command. 'Rest.'_

**

* * *

**

I awoke in my own bed, to the feeling of warmth at my waist and the sound of soft rumbling purrs. Rosie, even if she was getting quite old, had her foot raised high in the air, limber like a little dancer, as she washed her leg. I felt as if I had slept human and dreamt heavily, not as if I was a vampire springing into alert wakefulness. I turned my head slowly to my right and saw Eric, eyes glowing, staring down at me as if I was something rare and precious.

"You're home," he said softly.

My eyes traced around the room. I felt dazed, disoriented. Had it all been a dream? But vampires didn't dream…

"Home? Home from where?"

He brushed the hair away from my face.

"You tell me, min älskade. The Pythoness told us you would return. But she did not know where you were. Even Bert could not, or would not, tell me."

And then it sank in that it had been real. I tried to focus my mind and I recalled an open palace, rooms that looked out over green hills and forests. Serene gardens and the gentle sound of rushing water, the scents of flowers. And _his_ mind, all over, in mine. His lips, almost warm on mine, sucking something dark, cordlike, manifest, away from me… I shivered. What had been pulled out of me?

Eric must have seen how completely unsettled I was from my expression. He put his hand on my chest as if to stroke me reassuringly, but I jumped with the contact. His eyes became sorrowful. He withdrew his hand and didn't touch me.

"Sookie, listen to me- whatever happened, he clearly was _compelling_ you. There is simply nothing that you can do to resist that force. I know that full well. Ultimately, all that is important is that you are safe and returned home. Whatever happened to you, if you are back home with me, we will be fine and we will work things out. No matter _what_ happened, no matter how long it takes, we will be fine because we are together."

I lurched internally because I felt confused. What _had_ happened to me? What had Naram-Shari done to me? It was like it was all a fuzzy image in my mind that I had to refocus. They had tried, unsuccessfully, to remove my memories of that place and time. Yet I still remembered it, though it was kind of blurry. I realized quite clearly that I had _not_ been harmed. And I didn't feel at all unwell or afraid or even… unhappy, anymore. I actually felt… renewed. In fact, I felt… exhilarated. I was _home._ And I felt Eric as I had all the many years before. I felt his warmth of spirit. I could actually even see it, meeting his eyes. And yet he was so deeply unhappy now. I took his face in my hands and kissed him.

"Nothing bad happened to me. You have to stop blaming yourself, Eric. I'm fine… I'm really fine."

I sat up, and found that I was in a thin, blue-gray silk shift. I pulled up the hem and looked at my tattoo on my hip. It was brightly iridescent now, shining like mother of pearl, and above it, in an ink like polished copper, was a tattoo with cuneiform type images of fire above what looked like maybe a hand and water below the hand. They had marked me as theirs, I realized. My original tattoo had been altered. The strength I could draw on was not Eric's and Andor's and all the rest. It was _theirs_, but it came at a price. It would summon them to draw on it. I remembered this clearly and I was under the distinct impression that summoning Naram-Shari and Ninshabur to my aid could be sketchy at best for the world at large. Like their 'goddesses', they were entities of great power. I recalled in my dream, or whatever it was, he had released me from being bound to him, giving me back to my true partner. I looked at the palm of my left hand and saw a thin scar across it. It shimmered in the dimly lit room, as if lit from within me. Then I picked up Eric's left hand and looked at the palm. It was the same as mine. _It wasn't a dream_…

"What is it?" he asked.

"He released me and bound us together again, in the name of his goddess, Ereshkigal. He gave me back to you… How long have I been gone?"

He looked at me and soberly, "A month. Ereshkigal is the goddess of the underworld, goddess of the dead. Bert knows her as Cerridwen. He would tell us little more. We tried to find out all the information we could. Even from the Voortens. There was so little to be had. But Mattias van Voorten said that he thought you knew of this vampire or demon, Naram-Shari."

"Ocella met him. He had met him with Akhet. He was the one that wore silver. But he wasn't really a vampire at all. He's the only remaining original night _shedu_. The other is long gone. They were mates. And the people they serve aren't really gods and goddesses. I mean, they're really powerful beings, without a doubt. More powerful than fairies, but they're... just beings."

I flashed on a conversation with Naram-Shari, at the edge of a pond filled with lotuses. He was such a lonely man. I looked up at Eric again.

"Naram-Shari made us. He made the first vampires with his mate. Out of humans and his own blood, the fire and wind. It's why our eyes glow, and we move swiftly like the wind. He came because was curious, because of the resistance to the silver business. That originated with him, too. The rest knew me from before. From when Bert saved me ten years ago. Branwen had decided she would safeguard me further when I got into trouble over the silver business. So she sent both of them. He used to wander, taking an interest in his creations. But he got very discouraged. We went kind of wrong somewhere, he said. He stopped coming and left us alone for a very long time. He says we were an experiment that soer of went wrong, but which was starting to correct itself. Like all things in nature… Everything rights itself if you wait long enough," I whispered. "You just have to wait."

I paused for a moment thinking about that idea.

"He was the one who healed Cadel," I continued softly. "After the damage from the silver tear gas in Lafayette? He was the one who healed him. They liked Cadel. He has a good heart and his own rules. Cadel was proof of things getting better."

Eric seemed to be hanging on my words, not asking any questions, still not touching me, even though he had leaned so close.

I paused then murmured, "I was hoping the sunshine would be the same as with the silver, but he said this was the way we were created to be… but that it can be… altered. He was sure that it could be. But he could not tell me how. Or wouldn't tell. Maybe I have to find it myself. Maybe that is the whole point… maybe I have to _make_ it mine again…" I tipped my head to the side. Sunshine… I had seen the daylight when I was with him. I had seen _sunshine_, felt its warmth on my skin. They had tempted me with sunshine. The sounds of bees in the rose gardens and the songs of meadowlarks. I had walked in the gardens of what were once called gods. They were not gods any more than fairies were. They were powerful. Fearsome and beautiful. Had they really tried to tempt me to stay there? All I had thought about was coming home.

I reached out and touched Eric's face and stroked it softly.

He took my hand and kissed it and held it to his chest. He seemed to struggle with something and finally said, not even meeting my eyes,

"Did he hurt you, Sookie? Bert said that he was sure they would not harm you. But from the manner before that _thing_ took you, I… I did not believe Bert. He could compel you. He could have made you do anything he wanted." His eyes met mine and were filled with anger, outrage, fear for me and so very much pain. "Did he hurt you? Force you to…?" he couldn't even finish the question. He thought it was wrong to ask me so soon but he was so anguished. I could see he had been inconsolable thinking of what could be happening to me.

I flashed back mentally to some other place, with a less than gentle yet still, in the end, benevolent touch.

_I awoke to find myself sitting propped up in a chair. My clothes were gone, replaced with a soft shift of linen. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the long, gauzy curtains billowing softly, a shaft of sunlight pierced the shady room. As the curtain billowed inward with the breeze, it made patterns of light across the floor, which was of a soft smooth stone, cool under my own cool feet._

_He reclined on a low bed that was almost like a dais. He sat up and beckoned to me. _

"_Come here," he said with that cold and unearthly voice._

_I was filled with inner dread. But what could he do to Eric if I went back on my words? What a fool I had been to let him see how much I cared for Eric. It put Eric at even greater risk. No matter what, I would not resist now, I told myself. No matter what. I rose, and with leaden steps, I walked over to him. He gestured that I should sit. I sat and as he turned my face toward him, I cast my eyes away and in spite of myself, trembled. He clamped his hand on my cheekbones and seemed to read something from me._

"_Ah, the Viking… You love him? Love? Such a human emotion, love…"_

_I felt a flash of anger._

"_It is not. It is a _universal_ emotion. You go and ask your precious Branwen or Nanshe or whatever the hell she calls herself, if she loves her granddaughter. You just ask her. You'll see how human it is. I'd think that love was on the divine, rather on the human, side. Because it's so much harder to live loving. It's full of risk. You have to be really brave to love. It makes you hope things like this, being ripped away from someone you love, aren't possible. __Everyone is someone's child or loved one. Branwen loves Bronwyn. You just ask her… How would she feel if something like what you all have done to me happened to her granddaughter?"_

"_Do you threaten the child?" he asked me, eyes going into flames._

_I gasped._

"_Of course not! I love her. What is wrong with you? I want no harm to anyone, unless they truly deserve it. And I pity you if you think love is only for humans. No matter how much power you have, it's worthless if you're not strong enough to care about others." As the words left my mouth, I shivered, though, realizing that pissing off some tens of thousands of years old demon vampire created by some godlike beings was probably _not_ the best strategy._

_He withdrew his hand and smiled. In a warmer tone of voice than I'd heard thus far, he said,_

"_Nanshe loves the child. She is her first grandchild in many, many centuries. I know that the child is really your child and that you would never harm her. It was a very great gift to give." _

_He regarded me with an intense gaze as he spoke and then he rested his hand on my thigh. I cringed and looked away, feeling a wave of dread wash over me. I felt like I could drown in it. Except now I couldn't be drowned at all. I felt tears welling in my eyes. At that moment I hated Branwen. How could she have consigned me to this, I wondered? Was I too unimportant even to care about? Was she angry because I wouldn't call Bronwyn mine? Had I offended her? Could Bert rescue me from this? Would he? Would he go against his mother if she had decreed this was all just fine? What had I done to deserve whatever this man was going to do to me? Making myself and those I loved immune to silver? She'd said it was fine with her! Or was it killing Salome in self-defense? Perhaps, since she was so old, he had known her? Then I shivered with the thought… _perhaps he_ had _loved her_? I started to tremble as I looked down at his hand on my thigh. _

_He leaned closer to me and said, in an detached and yet amused tone,_

"_You are afraid of me. Even though you fight me. What do you think I will do to you?"_

_What _was_ he going to do to me? How bad would this be? I wanted so desperately to get away from here and yet I didn't even know where here really was? Was it even my world, the same world that my home was in? How long before this would be over? Would it ever be over? I could live forever! He could _harm_ me forever, just as he'd threatened Nan. I glanced at the torches burning on the wall. Eventually, he might leave me alone. What if I set myself on fire? How long did a vampire have to burn to be dead for good? It seemed like a surer option than trying to impale myself and missing the mark. Or would it be possible for me to get away near sunrise? Would direct sunlight even harm me here? I was in a room with some daylight and felt only warmth. What could I do? My mind just spun with desperate thoughts of regaining my freedom any way, and in any manner I could. By any means that wouldn't put me in his hands for even a moment longer that I had to be… I didn't care if I died for good doing it. Real death was its own kind of freedom. I felt a wave of revulsion wash over me as I looked at his hand on my thigh and thought of Eric and how used to his gentleness I was. How used to the luxury of only being touched by someone that loved me I was. How I didn't want any other person to touch me. My mind strayed far back to my childhood, to Uncle Bartlett, to his hands on me. I felt helpless…. helpless… Something primal in me flailed and struggled as if caught in a steel-jawed trap. I was the animal that would chew off its own leg to get away, that would fight, twisting tighter and tighter in the snare until I was dead. Never again, a voice in my mind seemed to echo. Never again._

_Suddenly, Naram-Shari withdrew his hand. I tensed, waiting for him to strike me or to begin to do something much worse than just striking me. He was silent for a minute and then said quietly,  
_

"_You need not fear me. I will not harm you. You will not be asked to do anything against your will. You are under the protection of Nanshe, under my protection and that of Ereshkigal. You have been harmed in the past. Nothing and no one will harm you here. You are safe here." He hesitated a moment and then took up my left arm and swept his hand over it as if studying something. I felt as if all the traces of everything I'd ever cut into myself were illuminated, even though it looked like plain smooth skin. "I forbid you to harm yourself." _

_His words vibrated through me and I felt like I was bound tight by them. I gasped. He had compelled me not to! I couldn't understand how. Why could he and no one else, not even Eric, not even after years and years of so much of his blood? I gasped. He was taking my one way out away from me! Tears of frustration rolled down my cheeks. I choked, unable even to speak.  
_

_He looked at me with an odd smile._

"_But I am the original maker, little one. Along with Lilitu, who is gone several millennia ago. It is hardly surprising that I can control you." He paused and then said, "Perhaps you will feel comforted to know that I am the one that repaired the Welsh vampire. Though you, yourself, have repaired things in him, as well. You are safe here." He rose. "You will stay here. I will send you refreshment. You do not get your food directly?"_

_I cringed and shook my head. I would rather starve than feed from a human and I seriously wondered where they'd 'acquired' whatever humans they were feeding on. As for staying here? I didn't want to stay here. I wanted to go home. What possible reason justified keeping me from those I loved and my home? What had I ever done to deserve being separated from all that I knew and loved? If they didn't care about Ocella and Salome, and Branwen didn't care about the silver, what had I done? Why?  
_

_He placed his hand on my forehead and I saw a swirl of colors in my mind's eye and then saw flashes and whispers of so many bad things that had happened to me in my life and finally saw myself cutting myself up, inside and out, in the literal sense. Like images flashing on a screen, I couldn't stop them. I finally ended up sunken down, hunched over, gasping even though I didn't breathe, tears streaming down my face. He bent closer and whispered words I didn't understand to me and the images dispersed as if in a mist quickly burned off by the sun. The bad images were quickly replaced with better ones, Eric laughing on a roof under the stars, Pam teasing me, bowling with Cadel, watching Hunter asleep on my daybed, laughing as he finally beat Eric at chess at 17, only to accuse Eric of multi-tasking and not really trying, Bronwyn dancing and singing in her garden, falling asleep against me while I read to her in the dusky light, sitting in the big rattan chair on Amelia's back porch,__ Eric's eyes catching mine in my candlelit office,__ or the way he looked at me as I walked down the aisle on Jason's arm in my red wedding dress, girls in a school in Pakistan reciting passages from cookbooks, teaching me how to do shisha embroidery and simple weaving, __Eric dancing with me, while we floated around my backyard in Bon Temps, __Rosie, purring and washing my face to wake me, baking apple pies with Gran, being snuggled against Jason and Tara in a tiny homemade tent in the garden, giggling and watching fireflies, and most of all Eric's eyes looking down at me tenderly, so happily, as I'd promised never to leave him alone as I sat in his arms on a roof under the stars..._

_He sighed and rested his hand lightly on my head.  
_

"_I understand Nanshe's interest. You have such remarkable gifts. A sight into the mind so clear, so firm, yet so gentle in nature. You could do much, but not when you twist in a snare that isn't even really there. Not when you hate what you are. You have long been damaged and injured. In the end you have even injured yourself. You have no reason to fear me, little one. I have protected you and I will do you no harm."_

_He left me sitting on the bed, in the warm sunlit room, a rose-scented breeze gently brushing my skin. __My mind filled with memories of that old Patti Page song, 'You Belong to Me', which Eric liked so much and would hum when dancing with me in our rooms sometimes. No matter what kind of dream world this might be, no matter what protection it seemed to offer, I wanted to go home. I belonged elsewhere.  
_

I thought about how to reply to Eric's question.

"They didn't hurt me. _He_ didn't hurt me. He wasn't, isn't, a bad or evil person, Eric. If anything, he healed something in me," I said softly. I looked up at his face, which looked so grief-stricken and downcast. He didn't believe me. He thought I was just trying to avoid hurting him, because he'd been unable to protect me from whatever had been done to me. He'd heard what I'd said to Naram-Shari moments before we'd left the Pythoness's suite. It had been a harrowing thing in his mind ever since, weighing on him so very heavily. On Andor's mind, too, it seemed. I had asked for protection of both of them. In their minds, I had sold myself to a demon to guarantee them no harm.

I reached up and touched his face gently.

"Really, Eric," I whispered. "He didn't do anything to me. Well, not anything bad. Nothing sexual. Nothing even physical. He got inside my head, which was, maybe even harder because it was even more personal. He saw everything in me… He made me see things in myself, things long past that I didn't want to see or remember. Painful things. But good things, too. He said it was so that I could figure out how I got to where I am now. Like why I do things or how I feel about things, about myself, more clearly. He didn't take them away, he just made me see them, safely. It was like he could do what I did with Markus or Bronwyn or… maybe he can just use what I can do myself, but on _me_. It was really like he was using my own abilities on _me_. Maybe that was the point. To show me things _I _can do. I don't even know how to explain it. But he knew that I didn't want him to touch me and mostly he… didn't. He kissed me once, but it wasn't like a sexual thing. He drew something out of me. Something… dark. Something dark in me, that I guess I needed to give up if there was any chance to be whole again. He did not harm me. Ninshabur didn't either. None of them did. They are not gentle but they are careful. They were all… careful with me, too. It was like before, when they drowned me. It felt like such a terrible thing then, but it healed me. This was like that in a way. They were... kind to me. As kind as they could be with someone who is not like them."

"Who were _they_? Other than those two, Branwen and who else?"

"There were… others. I can't quite remember it all. They were…" I rubbed my forehead. "It's like you said. All that matters to me is that I'm back with you." I realized that I had clearly been proscribed from telling a lot of the details of where I'd been. When they couldn't erase it, they left it so I could see it, but not speak of it. Looking into Eric's thoughts, I thought perhaps that was a very shrewd good plan. The words 'Viking revenge' in Cadel's voice flashed through my mind.

"Did you see Bert? When you were there, was Bert there?"

"What? No. I..." He was very angry at Bert. "He wasn't there that I saw."

His face was still filled with bitterness. Now there was more anger than fear of what might have happened to me. But I could still see he doubted that they had left me unharmed. I held his face in my hands and kissed him again.

"Really, they did not harm me, Eric. And I'm home," I said softly. "Just as I promised you, I will never leave you. I'm sorry for the things I said before they took me, that awful night before. I will not leave you, Eric. I do not ever _want_ to leave you. I was so depressed. I have been so depressed... But I'm better, or at least I'm starting to understand how to get better, now. I'm sorry that you have been so very distraught. I don't understand Branwen and why she did what she did, the way she did. They just don't think like us. Any of us, humans, or vampires or... they think they hold dominion over all things. Maybe in a way they do. I don't like how she did what she did, but it wasn't badly intended. They really just don't think the way we do at all. Maybe they even think more differently than fairies do. Maybe when people called them gods, once they knew what that was, they have really come to believe it is their right to do as they believe gods would do. I cannot imagine the month you have had," I whispered. "I just can't imagine it."

He sank back into the bedding and pulled me partially on top of him and just held me tight. I draped my leg over his hip and rested my calf along his thigh. I felt as if I could just melt into him. I relaxed into the feeling completely, savoring it. _I was home._ In his arms. It was a glorious feeling. I tried to suffuse my happiness into him. He had given me his own happiness, from his simply being with me, so many times. I wanted to give mine back to him. I felt as if he would need to soak it up for quite some time. He had been so very distraught. Eric was not a fragile person in any way and yet I could see that the experience had really almost unhinged him. I could sense his accepting that I saw what it had been like for him, not covering it up, not pretending he'd been fine. I wondered for a moment how things had gone when he had tried to talk to Bert. He tensed beneath me as I thought of Bert. I tried to soothe him without saying or even thinking anything further at all. I thought about the last time we'd been dancing on the roof, and about our laughter close to dawn, when we had our silly games and play arguments. We lay there like that, holding hands, for well over an hour. Finally, his phone started receiving messages. Andor was concerned that he had not come out of the room. And then another from Cadel, filled with insults about being a lazy king and threats to take Eric's 'vintage' Corvette for a spin at high speed. With a heavy sigh, we sat up in the bed and he sent Andor a text saying I had returned, and the same to Cadel adding what he'd do if Cadel so much as touched his car. We showered, dressed and went downstairs.

I heard Mahler blasting through the hallways as I approached Pam's office. She sat perfectly still when I entered, as if she thought I was a spectre or ghost or something. Eric stood there with his arm around my shoulder just looking at her. She still said not a word. Moments later, Cadel, Markus Andor and Stefan were crowding the office right behind Eric. Pushing around in front of us, Andor stood looking down at me. He cradled my face in his huge hands and kissed my forehead.

"I am so very glad to see you," he said in a voice that betrayed more emotion than I'd ever heard from him. His eyes searched my face as if trying to be sure that I was still really myself, unharmed, whole. "I am so happy to see your face, Sookie."

His hands lingered on mine and I thought I actually saw tears in his. Like Eric, Andor was not particularly sentimental, in fact, if it was possible, he was even less so than Eric. He was so relieved and in so many ways. He hesitated, looking at Eric and then down at me with a firmly set jaw.

"You are unharmed?" he asked soberly. "Bert assured us you would not be harmed. Is this true?"

"Yes. I am well, Andor. I am quite well. They did nothing to harm me."

"Well, it's a bad thing when you're too much trouble even for demons to handle, chwaer. I'm starting to feel quite special that I've been able to keep apace with you when even demons can't. It's rather useful this _one _time that you were so impossible they've you given up…" said Cadel, pushing Andor out of the way and kissing me on the cheek. "The material I'll be getting out of Andor and Eric losing you is going to be incredible. Sloppy work, that. They'll have nothing to say to me for centuries after this business. It's the first time Pamela and I've completely agreed about anything in decades. Mind, I've not been able to get away with saying much to the culpable parties thus far, not relishing being knocked about more than is usual. Because there's been quite a bit of knocking things about around here. And there's the fire damage in Eric's office. Completely gutted now. You should have seen it. And when you've a bit of rest, I have to ask you a favor. Can you work that sticky spell of yours on a regular tattoo? Because I've something I'd like put on Andor's forehead. It's in Welsh, so I'll have to print it out for you. And before you ask, I can't translate it in polite company."

We all laughed and the tension in the room was largely dispelled.

Markus and Stefan both hugged me but Pam still stood apart. From just looking at her I understood why. I'd talk to her when she was ready, which clearly wasn't right now, in front of everyone else.

I glanced around and felt so warmed by all of them. But what I felt the most keenly was an absence of someone I very much wanted, even needed, to see.

"But where is Hunter?"

Eric put his arm around my shoulder in a reassuring fashion.

"He's staying with Caitlin right now, in her cottage at the back of Tucker's property, well-guarded by their pack. He had a car accident about a week ago…" I gasped, and he shook his head. "No, no... he's fine now. Though, he wasn't wearing a seatbelt when it happened. He had a broken arm and several cracked ribs and cuts from the broken glass, where he hit the window. All healed. It happened during the day and Caitlin went to stay with him in the emergency room after she found out from Bennett, until I arrived and gave him blood. She has been keeping an eye on him since then. He was having a some difficulty with the idea of being at home right now. He hesitated a moment and then continued. "I think he blamed himself for what had happened with you, frankly. We've talked about it." He glanced over at Stefan, who nodded, and then at Cadel, who didn't give any sign or expression of agreement away, a clear indicator that he'd been talking directly to Hunter and didn't want to say much about it. "We think he blamed himself because he had not foreseen it and because he said you would be happy and... you weren't. Yet, anyway." He looked at my dismay and touched my cheek gently. "We can talk about it later, min älskade. He's safe, he's doing better. I've sent him a text message letting him know you were home. That _you're_ safe and well. He says he is coming back to the compound tonightc."

I hung my head. For well over a year after I had come home I had avoided talking to Hunter about my being turned. He was too conscience-stricken to raise the subject himself and I had still been too upset to discuss it. My justification for not talking to him had been that it would just upset _both_ of us. But my refusal to face the conversation with him was clearly harming him. What more evidence beyond fencing without protection and driving without a seatbelt could I possibly need to see his immense distress? His carelessness with himself spoke volumes. And this was just what I knew about. What other risks had he taken, that I _didn't_ know about, I wondered? People find all kinds of ways to beat themselves up over things they feel badly about. I was quite the expert at it myself.

After a while all the guys had drifted away and Eric, after holding me in a long embrace, just nodded to Pam and said softly that he'd be in his office and that he was sure Hunter would be arriving shortly.

Pam stood looking at me soberly. She had seemed too upset to even speak. I tried to make light of it.

"You didn't really think I'd leave you on your own with the renovations a _second_ time? Not happening, Pam. Soon you'd have the entire third floor to yourself and the guys would have to hang out in the basement or something. Plus, I was afraid it was finally going to be more Eliot or even Hawthorne time. A lucky thing I'm back so soon. What was a month here was only like days there. I guess I was perilously close to your trying to put Andor on watching me, right? I'm sorry I was so late in getting back."

She had turned away, shuddering slightly then glanced over at me with her soft, cornflower blue eyes. She seemed to struggle with how to say what she was thinking.

"You look well. Quite well," she said finally, almost tremulously. She hesitated. "You are really unharmed, Sookie? What Andor told Stefan…" she shook her head and her eyes teared up. "Eric forbad them to tell me. They wouldn't tell me any real details about what had happened, or about _him_. But that was even more frightening to me. It took me more than two weeks to get it all out of Stefan. I had to really bully him into telling me. They were all so afraid for you. Eric was even more upset than when you died. Andor was so upset. For Eric, for you. It was so bad. You just can't imagine what it's been like here. We've barely been getting by with the business of running the state. None of us could focus. Andor sent Cadel and Hunter to Amsterdam to talk to those witches for help. Hunter was supposed to try to read them, in case they were withholding information. But no one knew what to do. And Bert and Eric? They have argued so horribly. _Horribly_. You cannot even begin to imagine. They could not even talk inside buildings anymore because they… broke and burned things. It was terrible. Bert left with Amelia and Bronwyn. I have no idea where they are. He was worried Eric would try take them. _I_ was worried Eric would take them. Bert wouldn't even let Amelia talk to me at all. She'd been so upset before he and Eric started arguing. She was so angry with Bert. And I… I have never blamed myself as much for anything as I have for the harm I did in turning you. Seeing Eric was bad enough, but wondering what was happening to you…" she whispered, on the verge of tears. "He was a demon? Really a _demon_?" she said in a hushed voice.

I paused before replying. What was Naram-Shari? What were any of us, really? Vampires were supposedly evil, right? Well, I'd seen the face of evil in humans like Mark Reynolds, a man who'd preached hatred from a pulpit, or William Martin Kindsley, a man who'd murdered me in cold blood because I thought that everyone deserved some fundamental rights. I'd seen it in fairies like Breandan, and his minions Neave and Lochlan, drivien by their cause of maintaining fairy racial purity. And in vampires like Ocella, with his heinous actions. But I'd seen so much goodness, too- in humans, fairies, vampires, and now even in those who let us call them gods, and in my shared with them, delicate offspring, who ran around singing in gardens barefoot while dressed in many scarves and pretending that walruses and sea otters would sit for tea. We were all just people. Good people, bad people...

Naram-Shari, for all his lack of tender manner, was so far from being evil that I didn't know for sure that he wasn't, in fact, some sort of angel. I thought about reading that the Greeks thought demons were divine. Naram-Shari's power seemed divine. It was unlike anything I'd seen or felt, other than Cerridwen herself. And, more than Branwen, she had left me in complete awe. Naram-Shari, at least with me, had been compassionate. I had not one bit of doubt that he could be incredibly violent or harsh if he wanted, or _needed_, to be, however. He had destroyed his own mate, Lilitu, in an attempt to put an end to her many wrongs and had then wandered alone for thousands of years before mostly withdrawing back into that other world, disillusioned by so many of their creations. Demon, angel, some higher power created for balancing the good and evil all intertwined and woven throughout the fabric of our world? With the power to do such violence, his chosen path, unlike his mate's, was a benevolent one. Was he fundamentally different from Eric or, really, even from me? He _wanted_ to be good. Even after tens of thousands of years on this earth, he still wanted to be a good soul. To have such power in one's hands and still desire to do right was a very amazing thing. In my eyes, that did make him divine.

"He's a good man, Pam. I don't know what I could call him that does him justice. The Greeks thought that demons were divine. Maybe they are. He did not harm me in any way other than forcing me to see myself. He was… a mirror. But a very _kind_ mirror."

I reached out and hugged her, then tried to further reassure her that I was fine, and that she hadn't done anything that had harmed me. Since she was too upset even to tell me off, I just let her cry. A slight mental poke and she was a flood. We sat on her couch and I hugged her until she felt well enough to grouse about the fact that I'd always been so very much trouble. I couldn't possibly argue with her on that point, which delighted her.

Shortly before midnight, Hunter arrived with Caitlin, who'd driven him to the compound since his car had been totaled in the accident. As I learned from Pam, Eric was refusing to buy him a new one until he 'got his act together' and put up a good chunk of his own money. He had told Hunter off for being so reckless and unsafe.

Hunter walked into Pam's office with Caitlin. She'd only been to the compound a few times and seemed a little ill at ease. She was dressed in white denims and what looked like Hunter's rather worn Tulane jersey. I recognized it from a smudge of paint on the sleeve. I smiled because she was wearing his shirt. It made a definite statement in my mind, and one I was glad to see. It looked like she'd had her hair relaxed recently. It wasn't in cornrows as it had usually been in the past. It hung in thick pigtails, wrapped at various points with olive and blue bands, the Tulane colors. She looked as neat and put together as if they'd gone on a date to a Tulane baseball game. I realized that she must have finished her Masters degree at the beginning of the month from what I recalled hearing from Hunter before the Summit. I'd have to congratulate her later.

Hunter, on the other hand, looked disheveled in a charcoal grey t-shirt with a hole in it and blue jeans. He hadn't shaved in at least a day or two from the looks of it. He also didn't want to look me in the eye. There was an aura of discomfort and unhappiness surrounding him. I greeted him with a hug, kissed Caitlin on the cheek, which made her a little nervous, and suggested that we go upstairs so we could talk in relative quiet.

"Can Caitlin wait in my room?" Hunter asked.

"Sure," I said as we got to the top of the stairs. As we walked around past Pam and Stefan's rooms, I stopped in front of the door to our room. "I'll be waiting in the dayroom. Get Caitlin settled."

As they wandered away toward Hunter's room I watched Caitlin draw closer to Hunter and murmur what sounded like words of comfort to him as they headed toward his rooms. He didn't come back for almost ten minutes. In the kitchen, I started melting chocolate for a hot chocolate for him after opening a fresh container of milk. I tried to really open my mind to feel him and his thoughts as I stirred the melting chocolate into a small amount of milk. I could feel him literally dragging his feet back down the hall in my direction. I felt his sense of dread about talking to me.

When he sat down at the dining room table, I plunked down a cup of hot chocolate in his favorite mug, the one with the Saints logo on it that Jamie had given him so long ago. I sat down next to him and didn't say a word. He sat there drinking his chocolate. After a few minutes of silence tears slowly streamed down his face. I picked up and held his hand.

In the beginning, I just let his thoughts, and images from his mind float through me. Every once in a while, I'd sort of push one back a bit, setting it aside. There was so much anguish that it was hard to know where to start. The image that kept coming to me again and again was not losing another mother, even though he had no real recollection of Hadley at all. She was _an absence_ in his life. A keenly felt loss he did not want repeated. That he couldn't bear to have repeated, in fact. I'd spent so much time assuring myself that I was no one's mother that I had never really considered whether _he_ looked at me like a mother. I shifted my chair closer and leaned nearer, so that he could rest his head against mine.

"I lost my parents," I reminded him gently. "If I could have saved my Gran, I would have and I'm not quite sure how far I'd have gone to do so. So you're not alone. You were never alone, Hunter."

After a long period of silence he asked, in a choked voice,

"Do you forgive me?"

I thought carefully about how to phrase my answer. My mind fleetingly went back to that moment, thirteen years before, in my apartment in Alexandria when Eric told me the truth about what had happened while I was grievously harmed by fairies and what had happened to _him_ as a result of trying to spare me further harm. It had taken me thirteen years to forgive myself for not having, at the time the events occurred, been able to forgive him for something that wasn't even his fault to begin with. And to forgive myself for what I'd left him to endure on his own because of his love for me. I thought about what happened in the City Hall chamber the night my life as I knew it changed forever and how Cadel somehow blamed Pam, and even a bit himself, for the fact that it happened. Of Pam, and Eric, blaming themselves again and again for things that had happened to me, things that couldn't be prevented, either because of outside forces or because of my own choices. And finally I thought of Hunter, and what he had endured in knowing something bad would happen to someone he loved for all those years, trying to believe that it would still be okay.

Even if I _could_ have changed them, would I really change my choices now, knowing what I had come to see in the past year two and a half years? Or even in the past fifteen years as whole? I would never have given up on loving, or trying to protect those I did. I'd never have taken back choices I'd made based on what I believed in. No matter what that love, or my beliefs had cost me. And really, had they cost me as much as I'd let myself believe?

"Sometimes in life you find out that the things that look as if they will require forgiveness really don't require forgiveness at all. They just require perspective and better understanding. Maybe, even if you didn't see it at the time, they turn out to be a gift of sorts. And so that's about where I am. You've done nothing that I have to give you forgiveness for, Hunter. All you did was love me. On the other hand, there are things that sometimes children need to forgive those who parent them. Especially me with you. Things like not being able to deal with stuff at the right time for your child. I did the best I could but I wasn't able to do what you needed when you needed it. Before you started getting hurt, being reckless and stuff like that. I'm very sorry for that and glad that you're okay in spite of it. So, I'm thinking we should just move forward from here with the idea that we were each doing the best we could for one another. And we'll continue doing that, you and I. Won't we?"

He just nodded.

"I'm glad you told Caitlin the truth," I said quietly. "I've always thought she really cares for you. It's good to know that her caring came before she knew what you could do, but important to know that it's there _in spite_ of what you can do, as well." I was silent for a moment or two. "So, if you and I are good, and you're straight now with her, maybe you can go back to not being afraid of what you see and who you are. Back to trusting it, and trusting yourself?" I turned to look down at his face, which had sort of sunk to my shoulder. He nodded, rubbing his cheek against my shoulder.

I tried to look back in time and discern just when he had shut down, tuned out and tried to entirely turn off his abilities. It had been so many months before, back even before he'd been injured fencing with Stefan. All the many things I'd ignored and looked away from, because I wasn't able to deal with my own feelings, let alone his. What was it that Branwen had said to me the previous year about children sort of redefining your way of having to deal with things? I hadn't dealt with a damn thing. And that was just so _me_. One of my very worst characteristics with people I loved. I looked out across the table, at the digital clock on the wall and took in the date, May 2022. Hunter had been hating himself, and what he was, for some time. More than two years now. And Eric knew. He knew and was worried for Hunter. Eric saw what I was unable to see. What I had refused to even look at, what I'd refused to feel, even when Hunter had had my blood. (In a way I wondered if he even had wanted to have my blood so I could feel how badly he felt more directly.) For all my glib chastisement about his loss of his own children not mattering enough to him anymore, Eric was a better parent than I'd been. Eric, who long ago I'd originally even feared telling about Hunter's abilities. Even though Hunter still had a father, Eric had treated Hunter like a son. And he was better with him than I'd been.

After a while Hunter said,

"Bert told me you would be okay. I was afraid to try to really think about any of it myself, in case it wasn't true. Bert and Uncle Eric have argued a lot. It was really bad. I felt so bad for Amelia. I wanted to believe Bert. But seeing that Uncle Eric and Andor like that felt so horrible… I was so glad to be away with Cadel in Amsterdam. It was even worse when I came back, though. We all felt so helpless."

He felt like he'd let me down, and then, in turn, let them down. He blamed himself for all that had happened to me but didn't know how he could have done differently. Really, I didn't know either.

"It will work out," I said. "I'm sure it will all work out. It wasn't their fault. It's another thing that maybe didn't even turn out to be bad in the end. Listen… You shouldn't keep Caitlin waiting."

"I'll stay," he said softly. "I just couldn't be here after the accident because…"

"It's okay. I understand. But if you want to spend more time with her, as long as you're safe at Bennett's it's fine. Or she can stay here. I'll add her to the security system for your room if you like."

He nodded.

"I have to talk to you about my classes, too," he sighed, leaning forward and putting his head in his hands and shaking it. "I've really made a mess of things. I've got a whole bunch of incompletes and a C in history. And I totaled the car. Eric was so angry when I was in the hospital. He really told me off. And yeah, I know he wasn't angry about _the __car_."

"Don't worry about it. We'll get it all straightened out, Squirt."

He turned to me and laughed.

"You haven't called me that in years."

I rose and took his empty cup. I just smiled at him and then went to go wash his mug. When I came back out, he looked better than he had in many months I realized. Though he was very weary. But it looked like a great weight was off his shoulders.

"I want to talk to Caitlin a bit so she knows she's welcome and congratulate her. She just graduated, right? So, I'll walk with you," I said.

We rose and headed over to his room. And I had to give him credit for not trying to block my entrance once we got there.

I gazed inside at his room, and at poor Caitlin, who was sitting at his desk, seemingly having carved out some space on the chair by piling things that had clearly been on it, next to it, and after pushing things aside on the desk itself to shift his computer keyboard closer. The damp washcloth on the desk near the keyboard was not lost on me. Some of the keys on the keyboard still looked dingy. There were dirty clothes tossed around on the furniture, on floor and piled in mounds over in the corner. There were three empty soda pop bottles and most disturbingly an empty _beer_ bottle, along with a pizza box from Vieux Carre. The box did not smell like cardboard with oregano and chili pepper flakes. It smelled like stale pizza, moldy cheese, cardboard, oregano and chili pepper flakes. My eyes narrowed as I turned to him. This was after only one month? He put up his hands as if surrendering.

"I know, I know. It's nowhere near as bad as before, though. You've got to admit that much."

"Is that a beer bottle?" I said pointing to a bottle that clearly said Negra Modelo.

He swallowed and then nodded, watching me nervously as I walked in and around the room.

"Yep," he said quietly with something that sounded like a bit of attitude.

"Excuse me?" I said turning back to him, eyes flashing.

He bit his lip, trying not to meet my eyes.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Hunter, you have twenty-four hours to get this room in shape. Twenty four hours or you are grounded with no allowance and not even a borrowed car. Are we straight? I am _not_ having this conversation a third time."

He looked at me as if in disbelief.

"You can't ground me. I'm twenty!"

I looked at him with fangs down, eyes starting to glow and smiled not unlike Pam when she was annoyed.

"Wanna bet? And since you've noticed you're twenty, it seems to me that that beer is not your legal privilege in this state or even in this entire country. And you're in the company of the daughter of a police lieutenant." I turned to look at Caitlin, who was pretending not to listen too closely but who was thinking she was totally grossed out by Hunter's room and how had she managed to be so intimately involved with such a slob, even if he was really sweet. "Caitlin, I am very sorry to have consigned you to the cesspool that is my child's room. Had I known, I would have had you stay in my dayroom and I'd have been talking to him here in the pigsty. Along with," I flipped up the lid on the Vieux Carre box and my suspicions were confirmed. "Lots and lots of apparent slops. Hunter, do you have any idea what it must be like for a Were to be in a room that smells this bad? Because it smells incredibly bad to me and I'm _dead_."

Caitlin erupted into a low, rumbling giggle and Hunter gave her a very bad look.

"Twenty four hours. And you will not have a single person who works in this building for a salary help you. Got it? It's your mess and _you're_ cleaning it."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Caitlin, congratulations on graduating! It's always a pleasure to see you. It's good to know that Hunter has such good judgment about the company he keeps, even if he has absolutely none about where he asks that company to wait for him."

"At least I'm finally getting to know the real Hunter," she remarked with a smile.

"I might be biased, but I do think he has some redeeming qualities," I said smiling at her.

She looked over at him and smiled then looked back at me.

"I do, too. I think he has a really good heart. He told me it runs in the family."


	12. Chapter 12

**XII.**

Bert, Amelia and Bronwyn arrived to see me the following night. They called ahead to Stefan and made an appointment. The formality was striking.

We met in Eric's temporary office about an hour after sunset. Bert looked at me with his intense eyes and smiled. But Eric stood, stone-faced, arms crossed, almost blocking their path to me. Amelia looked extremely nervous. Bert addressed Eric, saying,

"Eric," with a nod. "I'm glad to see that she has returned to you. As I knew she would. I hope you are finally at peace."

"No thanks to you."

"She is returned, thanks to my mother and Naram-Shari. _I _was not an impediment in your path. I was on your side, as I attempted to convey to you. And she is unharmed, as I assured you."

"After a month in who knows where. After being little better than kidnapped, taken against her and my will."

"And yet, she is as I told you she would be. Returned, unharmed."

He pushed confidently past Eric and walked over to greet me. He took my hand, and I didn't even resist the uninvited contact. I felt as if his hands were luminous where they contacted mine now. I saw him differently, even from when I had first steadily seen him unglamoured. I saw his good-heartedness, his diffidence over the situation having caused Eric pain that he could only imagine after almost having lost Amelia a year before. Much to my surprise, he hugged me.

"You chose to stay," he said, drawing back and smiling at me. "I knew you would."

Eric looked at him, puzzled.

"He released her. She said he _released_ her," he said firmly. "I don't see much choice on her part other than the fact that she clearly never wished to be taken in the first place."

"Of course, you did not even tell him, did you?" Bert asked me, looking unsurprised.

I looked at him and silently shook my head.

Eric looked at Bert darkly and then askance at me.

"Tell me what? What did you not tell me?" he asked, with an edge in his voice.

Bert turned to Eric and said,

"You should know that she is here because she _chose_ to stay with you. They wanted to keep her. To make her a _shedu_ or simply to keep her as she is. They would even have given her back the day, so that she could have sunshine if she wished it. My aunt, Inanna… Olwen, is the light, the day itself. She very much wanted to keep her with them. She appreciates Sookie's gifts. She has liked her, liked her energy, since she helped heal her after her illness from the silver. Olwen can wake the dead and even that was offered to her. My aunt Cerridwen likes her fiery nature. It is in keeping with the origins of your kind. And I think they also liked to keep her in part because she was part fairy, just to have one over on her great-grandfather for when he finally returns. He always says he will leave for good but always comes back and makes trouble. My Aunt Olwen has always disliked Niall Brigant. She does not like him in her skies but was surprised to find that she likes his great-granddaughter very much. But Sookie chose to stay _here_. To stay with _you_. It was Cerridwen, who settled things, telling Naram-Shari that he had to let Sookie choose, just as my mother had decreed. So it was only then that Naram-Shari released her. Because it was Sookie's wish to return to you. As I knew she would. Because I know her. Her world is here. But you should remember what she resisted much to _be_ here. I sure there are few who would walk on that earth who would have done the same. Though I knew _she _would."

You could have heard a pin drop. Eric could barely even meet my eyes to confirm any of it.

"My _heart_ and everything I love is here," I finally said softly, remembering the face as bright and beautiful as the sun itself. Olwen, Inanna, Ishtar, the goddess of the sky… whatever you wanted to call her. My unseen healer from a decade before, along with Branwen. I could remember feeling her warmth suffusing me. Let her be, Branwen had said… let her go back if she truly wishes it. "Besides, maybe I can find sunshine on my own, anyway. Or with the Voortens' help. Naram-Shari seems to think I could. I even think maybe he wanted me to do that. How could ever enjoy my life, alone?"

Eric's lips parted, but he did not speak as he looked at me. He shifted his posture slightly so that it was less aggressive.

Bronwyn skipped forward past Eric and hugged me around the waist. I smiled and caught Amelia's eyes, which were full of tears as she smiled at me. I crouched down and smiled at Bronwyn.

"I missed you, Aunt Sookie. You should see my violets. Aunt Pam didn't think I could grow them but I did, all by myself! I'll email you a picture. I read four books all by myself while you were gone. And I've started listening to _Harry Potter_. I want a ginger cat just like Hermione's. Mommy says we might get one. But it won't be part kneazle," she said with a pout. "I wish kneazles were real."

I put my hands at her waist and jiggled her, smiling at her.

"It sounds like you've been very busy. Which _Harry Potter_ are you on?"

Her eyes widened and sparkled.

"I just started _Prisoner of Azkaban._ Yesterday I finished _Chamber of Secrets_. It's scary. There is a bad serpent. If he were real, though, I could tame him. It is in my blood to tame anything with scales."

"You must speak parseltongue then, right?"

She shook her head, looking very serious with her wide blue eyes.

"No! I musn't… I want to be in Gryffindor. Hunter told me that he was in Gryffindor. I think he's in Ravenclaw."

I laughed. She was such a happy child.

Bert knelt next to her and whispered to her. She reached her hand forward and it glowed bright blue, as if illuminated from within. She looked at her father and nodded. Turning back to me, in her small voice, she said,

"In my name, Bronwyn Inara, I wish to claim you and yours. Protect me and I shall protect you and yours for all my days?"

"I shall happily protect you, for all the many years of my life, Bronwyn."

She touched her small hand to my chest and I placed my hand over hers. My eyes filled with tears as I smiled at her. When she withdrew her hand, a handprint glowing in iridescent blue blazoned on my breastbone and then slowly faded away.

"Daddy said that's the way it was supposed to be. That we must ask, not just take."

I felt as if the entire atmosphere in the room changed with her simple words. I looked at Bert and smiled.

"Even so, I learned so much from them," I whispered. "He made me appreciate what it is that I am. What I have been given. They all made me see that. Even if it wasn't how they intended it. My paradise is here. I just wanted to come home and live my life."

He merely smiled. It was not lost on me that, given the fact that Bert could be wherever he wished, he, too, had chosen to live in _this_ world.

I leaned over to kiss Bronwyn on the forehead. I rose and smiled at Amelia and walked back over to Eric. I took his left hand in my right and traced the scar that shouldn't, by all rights, exist at all. I rested my head on Eric's shoulder.

Eric stared at Bert but said nothing. Bert met his gaze but eventually his eyes drifted back to mine and he nodded. It would take time to repair the rift between them, I realized. But we all had plenty of time.

Later, after they were long gone and we were alone upstairs again, Eric stood looking at the books in the library, running his fingers over the spines of them, as if looking for something to read. He had canceled all of his appointments for the evening again tonight. Pam had told me that he had done the barest minimum to run things in the month I'd been gone. The long month since I'd literally been spirited away right before his eyes.

He turned to look back at me, sitting in the library chair with Rosie in my lap, rubbing her cheeks.

"You could have agreed to let this Olwen to 'raise you from the dead'?" he asked quietly.

I looked up at him, startled.

"In theory, I guess. But first off, if that works so well, why didn't Bert just take Amelia to his aunt when she was attacked? He said she was dying but what did it matter if Olwen could fix it? I'm thinking there must be something that isn't quite right about the whole business. Besides, even if it does work just fine, then I would have died all over again, Eric. You would have lost me twice and finally for good. I've seen a bit of what that's like for Cadel and I promised you I would stay. And think of what it would have meant if I agreed to that. Kindsley was convicted of killing me, but I'd be alive again and he would have died while in prison for killing a woman who was alive. How do you think that would fly with these hate groups that think he's a martyr and hero? They'd think it was all a trick, and… maybe it would be at that point. And to put you, to put Hunter, through losing me all over again? No. I'm staying with you as I am. I'll stay with my family, and take care of Hunter and Bronwyn."

"No sunshine?"

"It would have been _their_ sunshine. I don't want to live anywhere but here, in this world, which is the _real_ world, as far as I'm concerned. The world where I drive my car and get flat tires. Or where I spend hours doing work the regular way or where I have to tell my son to clean his room because it's a pigsty. Even though it's the same world where I've been shot and stabbed and kidnapped and had all manner of unpleasantness happen to me. There's still so much good and everything that I love here. The stuff of my world has it's own magic in my eyes. I don't know what their world is, but it's not mine. And they may have been called gods because they had more power than everybody else but they're still just people. They have all the same virtues and vices as any human, vampire, fairy or Were. I've got plenty of people here. People I love and that I'd much rather be with. So I'm still going to find my own way to be in the light, no matter how long it takes. But that's only a sideline. I've got more important things I'm going to do. If I'm going to have to be some dead glamouring vampire who sometimes does witchcraft, I'm going to make damn good use of it."

"What are you planning to do for your encore, min älskade?" he asked softly, looking at me.

"I'm going to make myself truly _useful_," I said. "Instead of wasting myself on what I wish I still had, I'm going to make the most of what I _have_. It sounds quite corny, but that's my plan. I'm simply going to live a more useful life."

I could feel him absorb real the impact of my words. _My_ life, I was calling it once again. In a different form, assuredly, but it was so very much my _life_.

"The life you led doesn't have to be the only life you have?" he asked in an odd tone of voice.

He'd seen the quote so many times over the past year or more on my email. I smiled and nodded. I was embracing the idea. But the feeling I had from him was still one of sadness and unease. He didn't smile back. In fact, he looked sort of grim.

He walked over to the wall near my chair and took down his favorite broadsword from the wall in our library. He knelt before me on one knee, offering me his sword, holding it out to me as it rested flat on his hands. It was such a courtly gesture. Puzzled, I smiled and took it from his hands. Looking at me with eyes that glowed like embers, he placed my hand on the hilt of his sword, and let it swing down until it pointed toward the floor. When I was human I would have barely been able to lift it even though I was very fit. I couldn't imagine a human man having used it in battle. But such a man, human long ago, knelt before me. I leaned forward in the chair to kiss him but he stopped me.

"In my era a man, when marrying, would give his wife his family's sword, for their sons. But I could not give you sons," he said, his voice full of emotion. "I could not even keep you safe. There are so many ways that I have failed to keep you safe from harm and yet, time and again, you have returned to me. If a woman gave back her husband's sword, their marriage could be considered void. Viking women could divorce their husbands if they wished, by simple declaration in front of a witness. It was a freedom granted to women that was not commonly found in Christian Europe. A freedom that allowed them to find a better life if they wished it."

I felt my eyes widen with shock as I took in what his meaning was. I shook my head.

"But Eric, you're the very best thing in my life. Of course, I return to you. I don't _want_ to be anywhere else. I want to be with _you_. I couldn't have a better life than I have here, with you."

He looked at me with those deep blue eyes and was silent.

"Really, I've always loved this sword but I'm more of a knife or handgun kind of girl, you know? It's a lovely gift, but I''m putting you in charge of it."

He looked at my hands on the hilt and stroked them gently. He looked me right in the eyes.

"Can you be happy like this, Sookie? Can you really be happy? I want you to be happy."

"I'm _am_ happy, Eric. Although, I'd be a lot happier if you put _our_ broadsword back where it was and stop poking it into my grandmother's braided rug. And let's just say that after twelve years of hearing that _you_ don't believe in divorce, to find out that Vikings were liberal with divorce is really pretty…" I shook my head, "well, talk about being a sly old vampire."

He smiled ever so slightly.

I leaned forward, pulled him closer and kissed him. Tipping the sword out of our way, he rested his forehead and nose against mine. I firmly yanked it up, out of my rug and rested the sword's hilt in my lap, blade pointing away from us. He snorted out a laugh and finally smiled as he rubbed his nose against mine.

We stayed like that for some time.


	13. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

**June 2022**

Markus came looking for me and said that Cadel wanted me to know that Ahmed was here. I was so puzzled. I'd not heard from him for several weeks, but I thought he might have just been on the road, since classes were out at NYU as of mid-May. He usually went to Riyadh to visit family in May before the heat became intolerable. It was awfully odd that he hadn't let me know he was coming, though.

"Where is he?" I asked Markus.

"Stefan has him waiting in the Great Room. He's waiting to see Eric but Stefan and Cadel said you'd want to know."

I squinted.

"What? He's waiting to see Eric? Why on earth? Did he have an appointment or something?"

Markus shrugged.

"He had some sort of letter. He gave it to Stefan. That's all I know."

I was instantly worried that Ahmed was going to start asking Eric yet again about being turned. I took off down the stairs, passing Markus and zoomed toward the great room.

As I drew nearer it didn't register at first. He seemed to sense my approach and he rose and turned to me with a serene smile. He was nicely dressed, as always, in what was likely a Zegna suit, though he wore it rather casually, no tie, silk shirt open at the neck, cuffs long. And then I took in his face.

I froze, mid-stride.

Ahmed was a vampire.

I started moving toward him again, my heart sunken, heavy.

"Sasha," he said quietly, nodding to me. He leaned down and kissed me on the cheek. "I bring you warmest greetings."

"Greetings? From whom?" I asked puzzled.

And then, at the open neckline of his shirt, I saw the copper tracings of glyphs across his collarbone and onto his chest. I knew them all too well.

He gazed down at me with great pride.

**

* * *

****May 2032**

I smiled with a big grin as my fingers made horns behind Cadel and Pam's heads. The camera flashed.

"Hey!" said Cadel, looking disgusted when he realized it. "Isn't that unprofessional or something?"

"I haven't taken the licensing exam yet. Until then, I can be just as bad as you or Pam. Worse even," I said, laughing. "It's like a loophole in the professional ethics area."

"We still can file a complaint with the Department of Professional Regulation, Cadel," said Pam dryly. "She'll never be licensed. But then we will have to find something else for her to do. That could be quite problematic, given the history."

Cadel smirked and turned to Pam.

"Let's set her on Andor, Pamela. That will finally show _him_, now won't it? There won't be anything left of the two of them."

"There won't be anything left of _any_ of us," said Pam.

"Oh, cut it out already, Andor's not even here to defend himself, so no fair," I said elbowing Cadel. He looked at me with a dismayed face. I was defending Andor? I erupted in laughter and grabbed him to pull him back in for the next photo.

Eric smiled at the three of us while Hunter snapped the photos.

"One more," Hunter said.

Cadel shifted the tassel in front of my nose just as the flash flashed.

"Cadel!" I shouted. "No fair… Do another one, Hunter."

"Very candid photos," chuckled Eric, from where he stood next to Hunter. He'd glanced at the photo. "Cadel is making trouble and Pam is frowning. It's definitely photo_realism_."

Hunter tried to take one more but Cadel stuck his hand in front of my face exactly when the flash went off.

"Cadel!" I said in mock outrage. "You're such a pain…"

"How was it that he is so 'joyful', again?" asked Pam. "What exactly is joyful to you? I am not feeling any joy. He is infuriating and always has been."

"Did you even try?" I asked. "I didn't see you even make an effort, Pam. It doesn't count unless you try to feel the joy. So get back to me on that."

Tiny Vidalia came over and, though a little inhibited looking at Eric, Cadel and Pam, said,

"Sookie, congratulations. We did it!"

I leaned forward and hugged her and then drew back. Vida always smelled so very… tasty. I replied with a warm smile,

"We did, Vida! You remember Hunter? This is my husband, Eric, and this Cadel, and Pam," I said, pointing as I spoke.

The little werewolf just smiled, nodded nervously at them and peeped out,

"Well, I'll call you." Vida was a bit afraid of vampires. I was the first vampire friend she'd ever had. We'd had most of our classes together. I took notes for her when the moon was full and covered her patients then, too.

"Definitely. I owe you coffee, remember?"

She smiled, nodded and then turned back toward her family. As Vida walked away, Annika seemed to appear out of nowhere. She walked over and looked up at me with her broad smile. She had appeared as mysteriously as ever she did in any location. And I was sure she was not here by holding a ticket either, since I'd had only four. She was in a navy blue suit with a gorgeous pin on the jacket, looking quite stylish, actually.

"Congratulations! And I already have patients lined up for you, so you better pass that board exam the _first_ time you sit for it, young lady."

I bent down and kissed her on her cheek. She looked slightly taken aback. I laughed softly and broke into a grin.

"Thanks for the congrats, Annika. I promise you I'll be licensed by September. Word of honor. I'm already studying, actually."

She looked up at me with a quite pleased expression and then looked at Eric, Pam, Cadel, and Hunter, gave a curt nod and departed by simply disappearing. No more soft walkaways for her these days…

I smiled as I watched her fade.

"So Ludwig is already lining up patients for you?" asked Pam, in a surprised tone.

I nodded.

"She's told me she could keep me busy for years. And that's not even with humans. Psychological trauma is such a big problem among supes. Or among _any_ people, really. You really should read my dissertation sometime, Pam."

"Well, I'm traumatized by the fact that Stefan continues to refer to Cadel as his best friend, rather than me. It is extremely upsetting. Can you help me with that one?"

I shook my head. "Absolutely incurable. Sorry. Acceptance is probably your only solution on that one. But, I'll be _your_ best friend if you want one?" I said with a smile.

I put my arm around Eric's waist and put my cap up on his head and laughed. It didn't fit because he was so big.

"You're really big-headed, you know?" I said with a wry smile and then I started laughing.

"You had to get a fancy degree to come to _that_ conclusion? All these years of study and work, just to get that? What a waste of time and money! I could have told you he was big-headed in 2009. I could have told you that in 1905. Or 1818. Actually, I could even have told you that back in 175…" said Cadel.

Eric put the cap back on my head, crooked his arm around Cadel's neck and said close to Cadel's ear,

"Cadel, I'm _really_ making the effort to stop roughing you up. But you're not helping me much at all."

Cadel nodded briefly, paused and then said,

"Right then… As I was saying, 1752. The spring, to be precise. And then there was that time in 1668, when Ocella was dragging me all over Northern Europe and we ran into you and Jumbo…"

I took Hunter's arm and walked away, shaking my head. Seriously, I should be grateful that there were only four tickets to the graduation per graduate. The thought of Andor, Cadel, Markus, Stefan _and_ Eric arguing and horsing around was a little too celebratory in my mind. There'd be enough of that awaiting me at home.

"Happy?" Hunter said softly.

I looked up at him and nodded, smiling.

"I _am_, Mr. Savoy. Quite happy. And you? Is the first week of fatherhood suiting you?"

"It is, but it's pretty tiring. Sometimes I'm falling asleep in the middle of the day. Caitlin is too tired to do nights, too, especially since she's still trying to study. But I think we're doing fine. The twins things still throws me for a loop. What is it with in vitro and twins? I'm glad they look like her though. Otherwise this first pregnancy would have been harder, even if it was for a good cause. But now we've got two critters and we'll go with one more in another year or two. Assuming I recover and handle more." He hugged my arm closer. "You know, I'm with Dr. Ludwig. You're going to be able to help so many people who can't get better the regular way. This whole thing is just… well, it's really an awesome idea."

"Just as long as everyone remembers who was the source of inspiration here…" said Cadel from behind us. "Credit, where credit is due…"

I turned back snorted with laughter.

"I thought it was Aunt Sookie's idea? Now _you're_ taking credit for it?," said Hunter, with a feigned look of surprise.

"Let's just remember who she zapped first, shall we? And," he said eyeing me, "now you've graduated, can we get a better car? The present car is a decade old. It's a disgrace our even driving it. It's practically a relic. I know we can do better."

"_We?_ I dunno, Cadel. I have _concerns_…"

"Like what? What can you possibly be concerned about?"

"Well, if I get a new car, which I don't even really need, what are you going to do with it. I'm seeing that dent on Pam's Jaguar for one thing…"

Eric turned and looked at Cadel with narrowed eyes.

"That car was given expressly to _Pam_, Cadel…" Eric said in a dry tone.

Cadel turned to me and said with an unpleasant expression,

"You really need to keep out of my mind. It's _highly_ unprofessional. And you're giving out confidential information. I'm sure it's a violation of some laws somewhere. But I do have one question for you- who's the little looker? She's a wolf, right?"

"Checking her out, eh, Cadel? Her name is Vidalia Somers, but she goes by Vida. She was the only other supe in my class. She is very pretty, isn't she? But she's also very clever. So I don't think she's going to be falling for any tricks of yours."

He smiled and his dimples grew deep. "What tricks? I've got no tricks. I've a mind to say I'm being slandered. And you don't know anything about any dents. You've no proof of anything."

Eric released Cadel from his hold and put is arm around my waist. He kissed my temple.

"If you still have a valid driver's license, you can have Sookie's old car when she gets a new one, Cadel," Eric said, chuckling at the outraged expression on Cadel's face. He turned back to me. "I'm so proud of you, min älskade," he murmured softly at me.

I looked at him with shining eyes.

"I'm happy. And proud. Are you listening Mr. Savoy?" I turned back to Hunter, who was typing a message into his phone.

Eric turned to me and softly kissed my lips.

"We're _both_ happy, then."

"Well, _I'm_ not happy," said Pam in an aggravated tone. "There's a dent in my car and Cadel's getting away with it." She glared at him. "Wait until I tell Stefan I was right and that it was you. He always thinks I'm too suspicious of you. I knew you'd been in the car. I just knew it! You think I can't tell but I can! Ha!"

"_I_ didn't dent your car, Pamela. It was the guy that bumped the car when I had it out and about. _I'd _never dent a car…"

"You're not _allowed _to borrow my car."

"But you agreed, just the other day," he said leaning toward her, "that I am allowed to drive Stefan's car?"

"If Stefan is foolish enough to let you drive his car, it's his business."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Well then, I'm glad to know it's okay that I borrowed the Jaguar. Because since it's a community property state, Pamela, I have, therefore, technically borrowed _Stefan's _car."

"_No!_" said Pam, stopping in her tracks. "No, you have _not_, Cadel!" Her eyes glowed red and we all tried very hard not to laugh. She looked over at me with annoyance. "_You see!_ I _told_ you it was going to be a problem. Where does it say marrying someone means that you have to deal with _this_?" she jabbed her finger at Cadel."Not even a month and he's taking advantage of it!"

I shook my head and tried not to laugh. Eric, Hunter and I kept walking while Cadel and Pam continued to trail behind us, bickering merrily with each other. They seemed to be enjoying themselves. Pam never really argued with Stefan at all. She might tease me or Eric but that was about it. Andor refused to argue with her and Markus was still a little afraid of arguing with her. She'd thrown a bowling ball at him a few years back, after all. Really, Cadel kept her going and gave her a run for the money in the safest possible sense, the way I saw it. And while bowling might be Markus's game, Cadel was far better at _dodge_ ball.

**

* * *

**

**June, 2067**

"Are you _listening_ to me, Mrs. Northman?"

"Yeah, yeah, give me a minute," I said as I slid the covering away from the pinhole in the East window cloth shade in the upstairs reading room. Gritting my teeth, I put my forearm into the pinhole-sized shaft of morning light.

It felt… warm.

Not searingly painful. Not like I was being flayed alive.

Eric rounded the corner and let out a short sound like a huff.

I did not see flesh on my arm vaporize or get tackled by a tall man, cursing in Norse as he pulled me away from a speck of light yet again, as he had a few too many times.

Instead I watch his jaw go slack in amazement, as he gazed at that tiny speck of light illuminating my forearm.

As I held my arm in the tiny shaft of light I felt the tattoo on my left hip tingle and then cool, while the one on my left wrist, so close to the speck of light, glowed a light blue. I found myself straightening, even as I hadn't realized that I'd hunched slightly, in anticipation of being burned yet again.

_I had done it._

I turned to Eric and smiled.

He drew closer and pulled me toward him, stroked a hand across my arm and then he sniffed faintly at the spot where the light had touched my skin.

I pulled my arm away and removed the second cover and exposed a slightly larger hole that was the size of a chickpea. I put my arm back in the light beam's path. I looked at the dot of morning light on my forearm with amazement.

"Well, I'll be damned," he said in a whisper.

"I've done it," I said in a hushed voice. "It works, Eric. It really works. A little more testing and I'm going to sit on the roof and watch the sunrise."

I felt this jolt of concern from him.

"You will only do sunrise if I am with you and watching _you_. Agreed?"

I turned to him and smiled.

"I'll do it however it makes you most comfortable. But really, clearly," I said drawing yet another sheet away so that now I had almost a golf ball sized spot of light on my forearm, almost its entire width, "I have it. I finally found the right combination."

He had shielded his eyes, which had started tearing, and after only seconds more exposure he pulled me slightly away and tugged the cord to loosen the blackout drapes so they closed over the spot.

"Ja, ja. I'm so very impressed. And not just with the sunlight. That's a very short nightgown for you to be traipsing around in, min lilla häxa. And it's dawn, which means it is time for _bed_. And since you are now so immune to light, I am thinking that this entire scenario is very much to _my_ advantage."

"Really? Hey... weren't you a pillaging Viking or something? Hmmm? Maybe not. You're looking like some sedate old bureaucrat these days. All business, no ravaging…"

I didn't even bother to look up and meet his eyes as I spun around. I could have felt the outrage at a hundred meters.

I stepped back toward the curtain and pulled it back a bit, looking at the shaft of light and I swiped my arm in front of it yet again with a smile. He caught my other arm and yanked me toward him and, in a neat, swift movement, hoisted me over his shoulder, and after swatting my butt, he stomped back toward the bedroom. We were laughing like kids as we passed Markus in the hall and I said, happily,

"Hey, Markus, how do you feel about sun..."

But Eric had unlocked the scanner, then slammed our door shut before I could continue. He headed toward the bedroom, scanned that door open then kicked it shut behind us as well. In the dark room, I was tossed on our big bed. He bent over me and put an arm on either side of me.

"Remind me again?" he said with a mischievous look. "I'm supposed to act more like a Viking? Some pillaging? Perhaps some ravaging? Hmmm? You sure about this?"

I smiled as I swished around a bit in my nightie.

"If you remember how," I said barely repressing my laughter as I tugged on his belt loop with my toe.

His eyes practically shot sparks.

"And you think you're going to get away with this because…?"

"Because we'll run out of time. It's already ten minutes past. You'll never last and I..." I flashed my forearm, "am now the one who will be unaffected. You got me too late, that's all. I can tease you as much as I like and you won't last."

"And _why _are we late to bed, min älskade? Taking so damn long to paint the thing on your arm?" he said as he dropped his slacks to the floor.

"If I rushed and made a mistake, you wouldn't be looking at me very happily while you call Annika because it didn't work yet again, now would you?"

He shook his head, and grabbed my legs to pull me toward the edge of the bed. I gave him my hand and he pulled me up to sitting and kissed me.

"No, I wouldn't. Because I can think of better things to do with our time."

He put his knee on the bed and kissed me again in a lingering, soft fashion, his hands slipping under my nightie., stroking my waist gently, and slowly moving up to my breasts. I scrunched my eyes awaiting the fallout as I said, quite clearly,

"I just _knew_ you'd forgotten how to ravage, Eric."

I was sure that my very undignified and unvampire-like peals of laughter could be heard throughout the entire building if anyone else was still awake.

**

* * *

**

**February 2075**

"But Flopsy, Mopsy and Cotton-Tail had bread and milk and blackberries for supper."

"Rea' it 'gain… _Peas?_"

I sighed and shifted Emma in my lap, leaning back into the wicker chair.

"How about Jemima Puddle-Duck? You haven't heard that one yet."

Emma pouted.

_One more Peta, then 'Mima. 'Kay, Ganma Sook?_ _Peas?_

I sighed.

"Words, Emma. Not thoughts, words. You have to practice saying what you want out loud because a lot of people don't know how to hear you otherwise. Okay?"

She pursed her lips and the soft aquamarine eyes flashed a little bit with disapproval.

"'Kay."

We were distracted by the peacocks starting to crow in unison out on the lawn. Cadel's wife Giovi had suggested the peacocks and they really were a pleasant, exotic touch, although they were too messy according to Pam. I looked over at my bed of crocuses, which were just on the verge of blooming. It had been a warm winter. The gardens had been so lush the previous year. But then I had a very talented gardener. This year I was anticipating it would be even lovelier.

The estate, officially named Paradiso, had been completely renovated for over thirty years now. We all lived here full time and went into the Quarter only a few days a week for meetings. It had been peaceful for several decades in our state. Between Eric's hard work and leadership, and having Bert, Bronwyn, Naram-Shari and Ninshabur's protection, there was little or no unrest. The AVL kept its distance after having been informed by a liaison, shortly after my return in 2022, that they had better stop asking questions about Sookie Northman and the entire crew of the Northman administration. And so we were left blissfully alone. While decades later rumors swirled about vampires who could go out in the daylight, the AVL pooh-poohed the entire idea and eventually those rumors had died down just like all the gossip about our being resistant to silver had. All our human, Were and vampire staff were glamoured into being unable to talk about us outside the bounds of the estate. Wards kept people from snooping and frustrated photographers with telephoto lenses.

And so time had passed peacefully for us in the years since my return from that other place. I went to Tulane for my bachelor's degree and then to graduate school at LSU. I had finally found something worth flying for. Avoiding traffic on the commute to Baton Rouge or being able to return home nightly were fine reasons.

I had now been a practicing psychologist for more than four decades. Sadly, business was still far too good. But I loved my work and felt productive. It was a good feeling to be able to help others. I had not killed anyone in more than fifty years. I had seldom even been called on to fight. Perhaps I couldn't say the same of some of those I lived with and loved, but I was happy that I, myself, could just focus on healing people. It was, as Annika Ludwig liked to say, my one true gift, the one that for so many years, even as a human, I'd failed to see. I had spent years trying to fight and in the end, I had arrived at a place where I healed rather than fought. It was one of those surprising aspects that sometimes happen in a life. That you find out you can be the very opposite of what you thought you were. I was happier healing people than I had ever been fighting or doing security. And the irony was, we were more secure than we'd ever been.

About five years before, Naram-Shari had shown up and had tattooed the remaining six members of my family with his personal protection, although of course Andor balked a bit, as always. I was also allowed to tattoo a number of other people with protection against silver. I selected Bill Compton right away, Maxwell, and Dani and Rasul. Naram was surprised by my tattooing Caitlin, Adele and Alex, Peggy and Jamie's sons and their children. I'd been wanting to do my Were friends for years. Ahmed continued to work as a liaison for Naram-Shari and Cerridwen. He was the first person outside the family to be made resistant to daylight, but he really was like family to me, which seemed to amuse Naram-Shari. Ahmed was the first child Naram had created in more than five millenia. Branwen was silent in her approval of the whole business, which to my mind meant Cerridwen approved. I had never seen her again, but Branwen visited regularly. We had achieved, if not a friendship, an ease of interaction. She never apologized to me, or to Eric, for what she had done in allowing Naram and Ninsha to take me away as they had. I was quite certain that she never would and that she still probably thought that there was nothing wrong with her decrees.

The world at large remained as ever it had been. Countries on the brink of war or worse, arguments over civil rights, and government versus the will of the people. There were so many concerns about the environment, global warming and pollution. There were in short, the usual good times and bad times. Vampires seemed to take it all in stride. By the calendar, I was just a few years short of a hundred years old. It was hardly old considering those I lived with but still, age gave you a different perspective on so many things.

I sighed as I looked out over our gardens, which were on the verge of bursting into bloom. Other than Bronwyn, Stefan, Pam and I were the big gardeners in the family. I wondered about some of what Bronwyn had planted here, plants which I was quite sure was not quite native to this world. She was happy with her 'merging of worlds' as she called it. She lived on the grounds of the estate in a small stone cottage that had mysteriously appeared about thirty years before. Cadel said it was clearly Welsh, as was the heath around it, and the fresh salt breeze that seemed to surround it. I never even asked how it got there. Like Mary in _A Secret Garden_, she'd asked Eric for 'a bit of earth' and then planted a cottage. We had achieved such happiness, my daughter, her real mother and I. It was a happy compromise in every way. Amelia had hardly aged and Bronwyn called her mother. She still called me her Aunt Sookie, just like Hunter did. But we definitely felt an indefinable bond. She and Hunter were quite close, too, though Hunter was now a grandfather. He'd never been turned, hadn't been bitten, and intended to live a normal life span with his college sweetheart Caitlin. He'd aged well, and fairly slowly, with occasional blood. They were both healthy, happy and enjoying their retirement traveling.

Emma made a frustrated sound in my lap.

"Are you warm enough, Emma?" I asked, rubbing her little legs in their white tights. She wore a red wool sweater over her white shorts and long sleeved shirt. It looked very pretty with her dark hair and olive skin. Her blue eyes looked so striking in contrast to her coloring. Emma was two and a half years old and very, very bright.

"Yeah... _Peta_, Ganma Sook. Mo' Peta!" She looked at me with intensely focused eyes and then yawned.

I sighed. Hunter's granddaughter was demanding enough to clearly be Hadley's descendant. But she could be a very sweet-natured child at times. We'd have to hope to build on _that_ aspect of her nature, I thought to myself. Though a bit of fire was really necessary to thrive in our world.

The door out onto the patio opened and Pam came out and sat down at the table with us, yawning as she slumped into her chair. She was wearing a peach terry cloth lounge set and her hair looked barely brushed. For Pam, being so disheveled was a clear statement of displeasure.

"Good afternoon. How are you, Emma?" she said, soberly.

"'Kay. Ganma Sook, read mo' Peta, _please_?" she said, trying to emphasize her pronunciation.

I smiled at her.

"Patience, Emma. Patience. Wow, you got up really early, Pam. It's still only 3 pm."

She gave me a very, very dark look.

"He wanted to see his garden in the daylight. It's extremely annoying, if you ask me. I'm sure it looks exactly the same by moonlight. It is what it is. A _garden_."

I laughed.

"Well, I guess the first thing I'd note is that _you_ didn't have to get up if you didn't want to. And the second is that he says it's _your_ garden that he's making _for you_. And I'm with Stefan. You see, hear and smell different things in the daylight, Pam. Bees and birds. The sun brings out different scents. It's just… different."

"If you think it is escaping my notice that you are siding with Stefan yet again on the garden issue, you are sadly mistaken."

"But it's better than when I also take his side for Cadel. You've got to admit that."

She ignored me as she waved one of the staff over with her warm bottle of blood.

"Do you have any idea why there is soot outside the fireplace in the great room? I couldn't help but notice it as I was on my way out to you and Emma."

I smiled at Zuli as she handed Pam her bottle and she nodded to me.

"Oh, Bronwyn was here earlier. She made fireworks which hopped like bunnies for Emma. I guess they hopped off onto the tile. I'm sure it's easy enough to clean up."

She shook her head disapprovingly. Pam did not approve of fireworks in the house _at all._

Bronwyn was a highly regarded horticulturist at the Botanical Garden. She had earned a PhD in Botany from Cornell. She was also responsible for every exotic plant on our grounds and there were some _very_ exotic things growing here. For instance I was really quite sure that the plant with blue leaves and fruit that made you laugh no matter what, human, vampire, Were or even demigod, you were, was really not quite native to our world… Just a smear of its juice on her lips was enough to make Pam mirthful. It was practically like fairy blood.

The French door opened and Stefan stepped out, in jeans and a butter yellow T-shirt, his hair tied back in a pony-tail, looking fresh-eyed and happy.

"Afternoon, Sookie. Hello, Emma." He bent down and kissed Pam on the lips and chuckled when she grumbled. "Ah, butter kvinna…" he said softly. "I'll be back. I want to look at the tulips and be sure nothing's been chewing on them. You're going to see, Pam. It's going to look absolutely beautiful in another couple of weeks. And then we'll have the daylilies in the summer."

Pam went on grumbling to herself as Stefan took off around the corner.

"Oh, hush, Pam. He planted the whole thing for you anyway, so I don't even know why you'd even pretend to complain," I said as Emma began swinging her legs into my calf as if she was riding a horse and trying to get it to run faster.

"Well, I don't know why we have to get up two whole hours early, okay? I mean really. Why?"

"Because you can?"

"You have no appreciation for the amount of work ahead of me tonight. Really none at all."

Emma chewed her finger and then leaned back against my chest.

_Peta?_ She sounded sleepy, actually.

"Eric's going to be so much more rested than you, too. What _will_ you do?"

Pam made a face at me. The fact that Eric didn't want to be in the daylight bothered her because she got tired earlier in the night now if she rose in afternoon. Tattooed over seven years before, Eric had still never seen the daylight in over eleven hundred years, other than in Rhodes in 2005 and once briefly at dawn on a humid June morning in 2067 when I went up on the roof to test my tattoo's magic. He'd insisted that I do both of us and that he'd sit with me. Just in case appearances where deceiving, the tattoo insufficient and I risked burning to a crisp. He sat near enough to the door with me so that we'd stand a chance of getting out of the light and spend the summer healing. But the tattoos worked just fine. Although a little bit of vapor rose off us, we saw the sun rise in the east uneventfully. But that was enough for Eric. The idea of being out in the day didn't make him comfortable. He was, he said, just a creature of the night. I called him a creature of habit and smiled as I pointed out that it was good to see that he was old-fashioned about some things. Especially since he teased _me_ about being old-fashioned all the time.

I didn't mind that Eric didn't want to be up in the daytime. I enjoyed having the some quiet time to myself again, since of course I never left the bounds of the estate during the day. Eric had always found a way to accept me as I wanted to be. How could I be any different, in good conscience, with his choices? Andor never rose early either, though Cadel and Markus did. Markus even had a meetings with his security staff during the day. Andor had finally gotten to the point where he didn't check and double check every single thing that Markus did. Now it was only every _other_ thing, as Markus acerbically remarked.

"What are you doing tomorrow night? Did you two decide?"

"Eric has plans but won't tell me much. All I know is that I have been instructed to wear something red, sexy, with high heels and to bring a wrap."

"A wrap?" she looked at me with puzzlement.

"A codeword for going in the car with the top down, so I can cover my hair or something."

"I find it incredible that you two continue to celebrate it."

I rolled my eyes.

"Why, Pam? It's _Valentines Day_. What don't you get?"

"_How_ long have you been married?"

"Only sixty-five years, Pam. Why, we're practically newlyweds still according to Eric. Anyway, we haven't been married so long that we don't enjoy romantic holidays. Personally, I just want to go dancing somewhere. We haven't been dancing since that New Year's party at the Mayor's mansion and I always hate those things, so I don't think it counts. So then... really, we haven't gone dancing since our anniversary back in December."

She shook her head.

"The two of you are very… amusing. To see two people together for so long and yet still be so foolish with one another is rather…"

"Promising, no? Wait until you see what Stefan's doing. I think you'll find it wonderfully _foolish_. Don't even bother trying to ask me what he's planned. You will not even complain to me the next day, if you know what's good for you. If you even try, I'll ignore you. All I'll say is that you'll love it."

She looked at me with her eyebrow raised. She looked the very picture of doubt. Stefan had been steadily proving her wrong for about four decades now. She still couldn't admit she was defeated. Stefan was had tickets to take Pam to a chamber music concert and had, rather romantically, arranged to have every surface of her office covered with red roses. They were very happy together.

The gentleman in question came back around the side of the building smiling and sat down next to Pam, taking her hand and saying,

"When you're done, you have to see your garden. It's looking gorgeous. Sookie, is Cadel up yet?"

"Up and in the office. Giovi is forcing him to pay all the tickets on their car. She was rather forceful about it. I heard a lot of shouting in Italian and muttering in Welsh. I was so glad I don't speak either one, because really, I'm thinking none of it was good."

Stefan grimaced playfully, shaking his head. Giovanna was Cadel's very human and delightful wife. An Italian, she'd been a graduate student in English Literature at LSU when Cadel had met her. Married over a decade, he was so genuinely happy. She was 35 but, of course, looked younger. We wondered sometimes behind their backs if she'd let herself be turned. Memories of turning Maggie and losing Heike still haunted Cadel, but less so these days. Cadel and I had talked quite a bit about it over the past few years. He was finally at a point of greater peace with himself about many things. Of course, he was just as mischievous as ever.

"More power to Giovi, _I _say," said Pam, with a chortle. "How many tickets, anyway?"

"I think I heard her shout fourteen? But not all of them are for parking. I know that I saw at least one speeding ticket in the back seat of their car last week."

Stefan made a snorting sound.

"So in the end they're going with you, Eric and Andor to Amsterdam?" he asked.

I nodded, stroking Emma's hair. She'd nodded off, her plump, warm hand resting on my palm.

"If Giovi hasn't done something to him by then, yes. She's very excited," I commented. "She's never been to the Netherlands, although I think they're going to stay longer in Europe so they can go to Verona and see her folks. Anyway, I'm still making the final arrangements with Chloë and Anaïs." I sighed it would be the first time I'd been back since Mathilde had died the previous spring. Mattias had died three years before. They had been beyond the aid of vampire blood and even, it seemed, any sort of fountain of youth. It would feel odd to go there without them now. Chloë was the new librarian but her language skills were not as developed as Mattias' had been. Occasionally, Ahmed would help her, or when needed, get them translations. He'd once had a friend of the Pythoness translate something from Ancient Greek for her. Ahmed himself had expanded his knowledge of languages a great deal in the past fifty years.

Stefan murmured something to Pam, who finished her bottle and rose with a sigh, took his hand and he drew her off to see her garden. She couldn't keep herself from smiling. Stefan put his arm around her as they turned the corner and kissed her head.

I looked out again at the sun-dappled garden and sighed, thinking of Mathilde and Mattias. They had died in their sleep peacefully, as everyone could only hope to pass or seek their final rest. Seeing them age and pass away had given me a taste of what it would be like to lose Jason, and in time, Hunter, Adele and Alex, and eventually even Eden, Emma's mother. I hoped when those days came I could accept them with equanimity but it was too painful to contemplate much at present. To my surprise, Emma seemed to jolt awake at my thoughts of the pain associated with losing those I loved. Sometimes I thought she could really read me without my having to think at her. But I wasn't sure yet. It was very hard to directly read vampires. Hunter's daughter Eden couldn't, for instance.

_Ganma Sook, peas… Peta! I wan' mo' Peta!_

I looked at my watch. I had at least another hour and a half's leisure before sunset, and then later, my appointments for the evening would start at 7:30 pm at my office in the compound. Emma wiggled in my lap, her small hand on the book in her lap. There was plenty of time still to read to Emma, put her down for her nap, then wait for Eric to wake.

Yes, I had nothing but time.

I had been given the precious gift of time. Time was, at last, my ally.

Kissing her head and soft hair, I turned back the pages in the book to the very beginning. I pointed to the words and said,

"Once upon a time there were four little rabbits and their names were- Flopsy, Mopsy, Cotton-tail and Peter…"


End file.
